A Book By Its Cover
by Bubble Wrapped Kitty
Summary: Elijah Bennet's world was turned upside down when he met one William Darcy. Despite being from different social classes, William is drawn to the other man, leaving him questioning his sexuality and values. When a misunderstanding lands them on opposite sides, can they ever reconcile to give the spark between them a chance, or are pride and prejudice too strong to overcome?
1. The Bennet Clan

AN: Taking a risk on this new story but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before, so here goes. Let me know what you think.

Largely inspired by the story "The Thing about Magnets" by Coastercrazed, which is by far the best modern adaption of P&P I've ever read, and the webseries "The Lizzie Bennet Diaries" on Youtube. Credit where it's due.

For anyone who is interested, I've made a pinterest board with actors and actresses who best resemble the characters as I've created them, as well as some of the fashions and locations. If you'd like to see that, there's a link on my profile.

It has been pointed out to me that the tags on this story may be slightly misleading. This story will have an eventual Elijah/Darcy pairing. Yes, it's a same-sex pairing. Proceed at your own discretion. If that's not your cup of tea, try that story I mentioned above. You won't regret reading it, it's brilliant. If you do decide to continue, I hope you enjoy :)

Also, to the person who tried to report me to FFN for my tags, I didn't lie. Elijah = Elizabeth. They are the same character, just with different anatomy. If the gender-bent stories can get away with using the same tags, why can't I? This is a work of fanfiction just like any other gender-bent, only in my case only one character was changed. Don't discriminate against me and my story because of sexual preference.

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**Chapter One - The Bennet Clan**

It is a truth universally acknowledged that there is no call an aspiring writer looks forward to and dreads in equal measure so much as a call from their agent.

The powerful strains of Wagner's "Flight of the Valkyries" emanating from his mobile made Elijah Bennet jump like he'd been electrocuted. "Excuse me," he said to his family, standing up and scurrying out of the dining room. Behind him he could hear his mother complaining about his lack of manners but he ignored her as he slipped into the living room. Pulling his mobile from his pocket, he caught a split second view of his agent's name flashing on the screen before he jabbed the green button and lifted the mobile to his ear.

"Hey Char," he said, a bit breathlessly.

"Oh, Eli, I'm glad I caught you," Charlotte Lucas responded cheerfully. Elijah felt his heart leap into his throat in anticipation. "Alright, well I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Let's get the bad over with first," said Elijah.

"Right," said Charlotte. "Well we got another letter." Elijah's heart plummeted and he dropped down to sit on the sofa. "I'm sorry, love, I really thought we had it this time, but they said they're not taking anything in our genre right now. But it's okay, we've still got plenty of options. Which brings me to the good news. I've got us a great marketing opportunity."

"This isn't another stodgy tea party, is it?" Elijah asked trepidatiously. The last time Charlotte had tried to market him to publishers, he'd had to sit through eight hours of tea, silent auctions, and interpretive dance. In the end, all of that tedium hadn't even paid off, either.

"Far from it," she said with a laugh. "Netherfield Corp is hosting another one of their fancy fundraisers and I managed to get us some invites. They said to bring my best new project and that's you. There'll be tons of people from publishing there, lots of chances to make contacts and rub elbows. It's black tie and you get to bring a plus one."

"When is it?" he asked.

"Friday," said Charlotte. Elijah made an impatient noise. "I know it's short notice, but it wasn't easy scoring these invites. It's not like I'm the biggest agent out there. So dust off your best suit if you wanna be the next bestselling author. I know you've got what it takes, the book is brilliant, we just need to find you the right publisher. Okay?"

"Okay, Friday," he agreed.

"That's my boy," said Charlotte. "I'll text you the details and I'll see you Friday." With that she hung up. Elijah sighed and leaned back into the sofa, letting his phone slip out of his hand.

It had been like that for the last eight months, ever since his manuscript had been picked up by Meryton Literary Agency. Char was trying her hardest but it seemed like the majority of the publishing world just wasn't looking to take a risk on a new author or his heartrending young adult romance. Over the last few months they had collected a stack of rejection letters that just kept growing. Elijah was trying to stay positive but it wasn't easy when people kept telling him that the manuscript he'd poured four years of his life into just wasn't good enough.

Bracing himself, Elijah stood and walked back into the dining room of his childhood home. Immediately six pairs of eyes flicked up to him and he nearly balked at the stares. "That wasn't very polite, Elijah," Mrs. Bennet chided. Sunday family dinners were something sacred in the Bennet household, a tradition established when the two oldest had moved out a few years prior.

"Sorry, I had to take that," he said, taking his seat at the table between his father and older sister Jane.

"Charlotte?" Jane asked, already knowing the answer.

"Any news about your book?" Mr. Bennet asked curiously.

"Nothing good," Elijah said and picked up his discarded fork. He knew what was coming and he wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with it.

As expected, Mrs. Bennet tutted loudly from the other end of the table. "Now really, honey, you ought to look into a more lucrative career," she said. "Something where you can afford to support a family. You can't keep working at that library forever. You know, your father's cousin - second cousin? - well anyway, I think he just started an advertising company, that's kind of like writing. You could do that."

"I'm not giving up on my writing, Mom," said Elijah, defences immediately going up. Of all the members of the Bennet clan, Mrs. Bennet was the one that Elijah was least like and it reflected in their tenuous relationship. When Mrs. Bennet had given birth to her first son, she had expected to have the classic All-American boy. Instead she got Elijah, tall and lean with brown hair and dark, puppy-eyes. Worst of all, instead of pursuing sports, he had turned out to be an artistic soul, more interested in writing poetry than kicking around a football.

To say that Mrs. Bennet was disappointed would be an understatement.

"Besides," Elijah continued, "next weekend could be a big break for me. Char got me into one of those charity events run by Netherfield, it's a big fundraiser for literacy. There's going to be tons of publishers there. Char thinks we can make some good contacts, maybe even get a contract."

Mr. Bennet opened his mouth but Mrs. Bennet beat him to it, cooing loudly. "Ooh, maybe you will meet a nice girl there. You do clean up rather nicely, Elijah, although you could really use a shave. Jane, would you make sure your brother at least shaves before the party? He'll never land a girl if he looks all _scruffy_." Elijah frowned, stroking his carefully manicured facial hair self-consciously.

"I wore a proper beard when I was his age, and you still married me," Mr. Bennet pointed out with a smirk, indulging in his favourite hobby: riling up his wife.

"Those were different times," Mrs. Bennet said, waving his comment away with a hand. "You've seen the way the men look now, all those actors, they're all clean cut now. None of this scruff and stubble nonsense."

"Not all of them," Mr. Bennet said. "What about that Iron Man fellow? His facial hair is longer than Eli's. And the other guy in that movie too, the blonde with the long hair."

Mrs. Bennet huffed. "All I'm saying," she said loudly, talking over him, "is that Elijah looks better when his face is clean. You must agree there."

"I think he looks fine," Mr. Bennet said with a shrug. When Mrs. Bennet made another impatient noise, Mr. Bennet glanced sideways at Elijah and winked. Elijah hid his smile behind his wine glass. For all the relationship he lacked with his mother, he more than made up with his father, even if he'd never understand how his parents tolerated each other.

The marriage between Mr. and Mrs. Bennet was dysfunctional at best. They had married young, straight out of high school, claiming true love. In all honesty, Elijah wondered if it hadn't had more to do with the fact that Mr. Bennet had a promising finance career in his family's business lined up for him after graduation. Things had been fine for a while, until after the birth of the twins, Mark and Kitty. Then the economy had collapsed and the Bennet family business and finances went with it.

"So Elijah," Mrs. Bennet started in her patented prying voice and he knew he wasn't going to like the conversation that followed. "A Netherfield party? Isn't that that big company that runs all of those fancy fundraisers for the arts?"

"Yes, Mom," he said, knowing full well that she already knew that. Mrs. Bennet was well versed in every form of gossip, but most especially where New York's highest social circles were concerned.

"Oh how exciting," she said, practically puffing up with eagerness. "You're not taking that redhead you were seeing, are you?"

"I'm not _seeing_ Charlotte," said Elijah. "She's my agent, remember?"

"Oh good, she's so very plain," Mrs. Bennet said. "Nice hair, but such an ordinary face. And all those freckles."

"She's also my best friend," he reminded her tersely. "And I think she's very pretty."

"Well sure, in a way I suppose," Mrs. Bennet said dismissively. "But she's not pretty like our dear Jane."

"No one's pretty like Jane," Elijah said. Next to him his elder sister blushed modestly.

"Of course not," Mrs. Bennet said, her favouritism showing through. In her eyes, the eldest Bennet could do no wrong. It was hard to not love Jane though. Not only was she an exquisite beauty, tall and willowy with porcelain skin and big, dark eyes, but she also had the sweetest temperment.

"You really can do much better than that redhead though," Mrs. Bennet said. "You're such a handsome boy, Elijah, if you'd just shave more often. You never know who you could meet at a party by Netherfield. So many wealthy women, pretty ones."

Elijah fidgeted uncomfortably, the truth threatening to burst out of him. All his mother wanted was for him to find a wife and settle down, but that wasn't part of Elijah's plan. There was that one little detail where he wasn't interested in a wife. Or girlfriend. Or anyone of the female persuasion. He couldn't tell her that though, because he knew his super conservative mother wouldn't take well to finding out that her oldest son is gay.

"And you're really at that age where you should settle down, marry and start a family," Mrs. Bennet continued, completely oblivious to her son's discomfort.

"I'm twenty-six," Elijah said, grateful for the change of subject.

"I had the twins when I was your age," Mrs. Bennet said pointedly.

Elijah bristled but he was stopped from saying anything by Jane placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Yes well, Mother, not all of us were lucky enough to meet our true love in high school," Jane said.

"I have," youngest child Lydia chimed in from the other side of the table, where she was sitting in between the twins. Elijah bit back a snort of derision; Lydia was convinced she had found her true love every other week. Perpetual party girl and social butterfly, Lydia went through a string of boyfriends, thinking each of them was The One. None of her so-called true loves lasted more than a month.

"Oh that Jordan is a lovely boy," Mrs. Bennet said fondly before turning on her son again. "Whatever happened to that blonde you were seeing? Are you going to take her with you to the party?"

Elijah thought guiltily of the girl from work that he had led his mother to believe he'd dated just to get her off his back for a while. "No, we aren't together," he said. "We decided it wasn't a good idea since we work together. Actually I was thinking Janey could be my date."

"Really?" Jane asked eagerly. "To a Netherfield ball?"

"Oh how lovely!" Mrs. Bennet cheered and actually clapped her hands together in excitement. "You are so very beautiful, Jane, I'm sure all the men will want to dance with you. Maybe you can meet some rich man who will marry you so you can stop working at that awful centre."

"I love my job," said Jane. She worked as an art teacher at the local YMCA, teaching painting to inner city kids. It was the sort of job she was perfectly suited for. Her patient and caring personality made even the roughest kids love her. "Those kids just need someone to believe in them."

"I just think you could've been so much more," Mrs. Bennet said indifferently. "A pretty face like yours, you really should have been a model or an actress. Or you could've been a dancer if you'd just kept with those lessons."

"I broke my ankle," Jane reminded her patiently.

"You should wear that silver dress," Mrs. Bennet said, changing tracks without regard for what Jane was saying. As she launched into talking fashion with Jane, Elijah returned to his now slightly cool dinner and enjoyed being off the radar for a few minutes. He used the time to observe his family.

Across from him, Mark was reading a book beneath the table as he took carefully measured forkfuls of food. Quiet and reserved - and a little bit socially awkward - Mark was the analytical one of the family. The middle child was the epitome of mediocre. Everything that he did, he did halfway.

The same could not be said for his twin sister Katherine, Kitty for short. A perpetual follower, Kitty always did exactly what everyone else was doing, although to her credit she did it all with full dedication. Her favourite person to copy was her younger sister, Lydia, who she idolised and tailed around like a lost puppy.

At the head of the table Mr. Bennet glanced at his older son and toasted him slightly with a forkful of ham. Elijah grinned in response. He and Mr. Bennet had always been close. It might've been their mutual love of classic literature, a shared fondness for teasing Mrs. Bennet, or maybe it was just because they were both men in a largely female household. All Elijah knew was that he was Mr. Bennet's favourite - something the family patriarch was not afraid to tell anyone who asked.

"Your mom'll kill me for saying it," Mr. Bennet said in a whisper, "but don't worry about meeting The One at the party, yeah? Focus on you and your book and have fun. Everything else will come when it's meant to."

"Cheers to that," Elijah said and tapped his glass against Mr. Bennet's.

Elijah leaned back in his chair and looked around at his family. They might be completely mental but they were still a family. And really they weren't so bad.

"Elijah, you never did tell me what happened to that lovely girl you were seeing around Christmas. You made such a cute pair..."

Well, most of the time anyway.


	2. Penthouse 45

**Chapter Two - Penthouse 45**

Elijah stood in front of the mirror, surveying his reflection critically. His white shirtsleeves were unbuttoned at the cuffs and a black vest hung open over his shoulders. He glanced back and forth between the ties draped over his hand, debating between the simple black and the dark maroon.

"The black," Jane said from behind. He glanced at her in the mirror and his jaw dropped. She was wearing a snow white party dress with a single black ridge of ruffles cutting diagonally across her chest and a pale grey ribbon accentuating her narrow waist. Her long hair was hanging loose in soft curls and her pouty lips were painted a deep scarlet.

"Damn girl," Elijah said, turning around to take her in properly. "You clean up nice."

"Thank you," she said, curtsying slightly. Then she crossed the room to him, her bright red heels clicking on the hardwood floor, and took the black tie from him. She looped it around his neck and started tying it with a practiced hand. When she smoothed it down she stepped back to survey him thoughtfully.

Picking up his charcoal gray suit jacket, he pulled it on and held out his arms. "What do you think?"

"Like James Bond," she said, buttoning up his cuffs affectionately. Elijah turned back to the mirror and buttoned the vest, tucking in his tie. He looked pretty damn good, if he did say so himself. Spending the extra money to rent a tux was well worth it.

A loud impatient honking from the street below made them both jump and Elijah glanced at the clock on his bedside table. "That must be Char," he said, realising that even if they left now they were still going to be fashionably late. He hastily pulled on his shoes and tucked his wallet and keys into his pockets. Once he'd straightened up, he offered out an arm to Jane. "Milady."

"Oh thank you, good sir," Jane said playfully as she threaded her arm through his. They locked up the flat behind them and headed down the rickety stairs that let out next to the front door of the Longbourne Deli. They were almost immediately swallowed up by the rush of bodies on the New York pavement.

A taxi was waiting against the kerb and Charlotte Lucas was waving from the back window. Elijah opened the door and let Jane slide in first before folding himself down into the backseat. "Well well, look at you two," Charlotte said, leaning forward to talk to them both.

"Us? Look at you," Elijah said. His best friend, who was generally a jeans and t-shirts girl, was wearing a floor-length dress of rich brown with a plunging neckline and matching tulle overlay. On her waist was a black belt with an ornate, eagle buckle that matched her black and silver heels. "I didn't know you owned a dress."

"I have a couple stashed away," Charlotte said with a pleased grin.

"So where exactly is this thing?" Elijah asked curiously as the taxi driver pulled away from the kerb and into the constant stream of traffic.

"Penthouse 45," Charlotte said and smirked. Elijah's eyes felt like they might fall out of his head as he gaped at his agent in surprise, and Jane gripped his forearm in shock. Elijah had seen Penthouse 45 from the outside before, a posh executive suite for company parties and conferences, but he'd never actually thought he'd set foot inside. He combed his fingers through his hair anxiously, suddenly self-conscious.

"Relax, love, you look great," Charlotte said, reaching across Jane to still his hands. "You're going to turn all the guy's heads."

Elijah grinned at his best friend and older sister, the only two people he had come out to. They had both been unendingly supportive of him and he didn't know what he would do without them. "I think you mean _we_ will turn all their heads," he insisted.

The rest of the lengthy taxi ride was spent complimenting each other's outfits and musing about just who in the publishing world would show up for the soiree. They reached the Manhattan high-rise just as the sun had set and the three of them piled out of the car amid the flash of paparazzi cameras. The buzz died down when the paparazzo's realised that they weren't anyone famous, immediately turning their attention to the sleek black towncar that pulled up where their taxi had been moments before.

Charlotte led them inside and when she flashed their invitation to the host at the door they were let into the lift. Elijah could feel his nerves climbing in time with the lift as it shot up the shaft, and by the time they reached the penthouse his palms were sweating slightly. There was a ding, and then the doors glided open.

They stepped out into a beautiful wonderland of glass and lights. The enormous open area was surrounded on near every side by walls of paned glass that provided a full circle view of the New York City skyline. Enormous round lights hung at intervals and reflected in the carefully polished hardwood floors. A live band played smooth classical music near the bar. The furniture that was set up in the corners was white, chic, and modern, and large doors led to a wide balcony overhanging the street below.

"My God, it's beautiful," Jane breathed, her hands lifting to cover her mouth. They clustered together, looking around at all of the fashionable people that were mingling and sipping at flutes of champagne.

"Alright, my lovelies," Charlotte said, turning on her toes to face them both and smiling. "Get your mingle on." With that she stalked off into the crowd, making a beeline for a cluster of women in sleek dresses.

"I need a drink," Elijah said. "You?"

"Yes, please," Jane said and linked her arm through his. They strode over to the bar and Elijah ordered them both a glass. He sipped it, the bubbles fizzing pleasantly in his throat.

"I am so far out of my element," Elijah said as they stood in a corner and looked around at all of the classy, high end literary agents and publishers milling about. "I'm used to sitting at home writing, not all this wining and dining."

"Maybe you should've brought Lydia with you instead," Jane said playfully. "She's great with people."

Elijah laughed and shook his head. "I'd never dream of going out on the town with anyone but my favourite sister," he said, nudging her with his elbow.

"You shouldn't pick favourites," Jane chided but he could tell she was pleased. They finished their drinks and passed the glasses off to one of the roving waiters, and then a slow, sweet song started. Jane took Elijah's hand and tugged. "Dance with me?"

"Can I ever say no to you?" Elijah responded. She dragged him out to an open spot on the floor near a few other couples who were revolving to the music. Elijah took his sister's tiny waist and clasped her other hand in his, and then they set off into a tight waltz. When they were growing up, Mrs. Bennet had insisted that all of her children took dance lessons. Jane was the only one who had stuck with them longer than the required year, but Elijah had always prided himself on how well he'd taken to the ballroom. Jane, despite the ankle she had broken as a teen, was as graceful and lithe as ever.

The song was grinding towards its finish when Elijah felt someone tapping him on the shoulder. He stopped and turned to face the newcomer in surprise. He was just slightly shorter than Elijah, with a smooth face and perfectly styled dark blonde hair. His wide blue eyes were bright and friendly as he flashed them a warm smile. "Would you mind terribly if I cut in?" he asked, gesturing at Jane.

Elijah took one look at his sister's face - which remained passive to a casual onlooker but Elijah knew her well enough to recognise the light in her eyes - and smiled. "Not at all, I was thinking of getting another drink anyway," he said. "I'll catch you up later, Janey." Elijah headed back toward the sofas near the bar and watched as the blonde swept his sister into an energetic foxtrot when the next song began. The two couldn't seem to look away from each other, smiling and laughing as they spiralled around the dancefloor.

As the two spun away, Elijah realised he wasn't the only one watching them. Leaning against the opposite wall was a couple, both of them with their eyes on Jane and her partner. The first was a blonde woman, with the telltale boney thinness and overly prepared look of a model. Her lips, painted a bright almost neon pink, were pursed as she watched the dancers. He couldn't say what it was, but something about her made Elijah immediately dislike her.

It was her companion that truly captured his attention though. If ever he had seen a man who embodied sex, it was this man. He wore a grey pinstriped suit that fitted him perfectly, somehow classy while still displaying the fact that he was built like a god; tall and broad shouldered, with a slim waist and hips. There was a faint five o'clock shadow along his sharp jawline and his hair was that perfect balance of styled and mussed. Most striking of all though were his eyes, bright icy blue and piercing.

The man suddenly looked over and for a split second their eyes met, blue on brown. A shock raced through Elijah's system, making his limbs tingle. He looked away hastily but he could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck and the room felt infinitely warmer than it had a minute ago. Needing an escape, Elijah pushed through one of the doors and stepped out onto the balcony.

The cool night air felt refreshing after the stifling heat of the inside, and Elijah leaned against the metal banister, staring out across the city. From this side of the building he could see glimpses of the Hudson, a ribbon of silver reflecting the moonlight in flashes. The persistent hum of cars and shouting and air traffic were a familiar backdrop and the tension gradually left Elijah's shoulders.

"Here you are." Charlotte appeared at his side, leaning her back against the railing by his elbow. "I was wondering where you'd run off to. I should've known you'd be a wallflower."

"I was just getting some air," Elijah said, straightening up. "Got a bit warm inside."

"It is a bit," Charlotte agreed. "Course, doesn't seem to be bothering your sister much. Jane's been dancing with the same bloke for the last four songs." Elijah glanced through the windows and saw that Jane was still in the arms of Blondie, smiling to rival the sun. "Go figure your sister would land Charles Bingley."

"Wait, Charles Bingley?" Elijah asked in surprise. "Like the owner of Netherfield Corp?"

"That's him," said Charlotte.

"What is he doing at a little book function like this?" Elijah asked.

"He comes to every event his company throws," Charlotte said. "He likes to keep in touch with the people he's helping out. He's supposed to be this crazy nice guy, it's no wonders he and Jane are drawn to each other." She turned sideways, fixing a stare on Elijah. "So we've found someone for her. Now how about you?"

Elijah's mind went immediate to a pair of ice blue eyes and there was a leap in his stomach. "I thought we were selling my book, not me," he said to cover.

"No one ever said we can't do both," Charlotte said with a shrug, smirking teasingly. "Speaking of... Come on, there's someone I want to introduce you to."

"Can it wait a second?" Elijah asked, the champagne suddenly an uncomfortable weight in his core. "Bathroom."

"Hurry up," Charlotte called after him. Elijah waved a hand lazily at her as he slipped back inside the event centre. He wound his way through the clusters of people until he found the narrow hall that led back to the restrooms. He did his business and washed his hands before slipping back out into the hall.

He had just reached the head of the hall when a familiar name made him pause. "Her name is Jane Bennet, and I'll tell you, Darce, I think she might be the one," said Charles Bingley from just around the corner. Curious, Elijah pressed himself back against the wall to listen.

"Considering you fall in love every other day," said a rich voice with a slight British accent, "forgive me for not being blown away." Elijah assumed it was Tall, Dark, and Handsome. _Of course he has an accent,_ Elijah thought, feeling his stomach twist up even more.

"This one's different," Charles insisted. "I mean it, man, she's something special." Elijah smiled at the purely enraptured tone of Bingley's voice. Clearly Jane had done a number on him, not that he was surprised. Everyone fell in love with Jane. "What about you, Darcy? Are you just going to stand here and hold up the wall all night?"

"You know I despise these events," the man called Darcy said dryly.

"You could at least make an attempt to not look like you're in physical pain," Charles said with a slight laugh. "C'mon, have a drink, dance with someone."

"You've found the only woman worth dancing with," Darcy said dismissively. "Although she smiles too much."

"God, her smile," Charles said a bit dreamily. "Well you could at least talk to someone."

"I talked to Caroline," Darcy said.

"I meant someone you don't already talk to all the time," Charles said, exasperated. "I could introduce you to Jane's brother. He's a writer, trying to get published. Maybe you could offer him some tips, publisher to writer. He's the one-"

"Bennet? I know who he is," Darcy interrupted. "I think I have no advice to help him. His book came across my desk. It was decent enough."

Elijah felt his blood beginning to boil. Decent enough? _Decent enough?_ He had a right mind to turn the corner and show that pompous toerag just how _decent_ he really was. That book was his heart and soul, the embodiment of years of his life, and that ass had tossed it aside saying it was merely decent enough? Of all the arrogant, condescending...

Turning on his heel, Elijah marched back into the restroom before he did something stupid. He leaned against the sinks, staring down his reflection. His cheeks were flushed and there was a spark in his eyes as he breathed heavily through his nose, trying to calm himself.

Well there went any attraction he had had to Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Darcy. What the hell kind of name was Darcy anyway? Was it his first name or last name? Either way, Elijah was so over him. No matter how attractive he was, there was no way he could ever see himself with someone so cold and dismissive. Someone who used his position to crush the dreams of those beneath him.

The door opened and startled Elijah out of his fuming. He half expected to see Darcy walking in but thankfully it was just an older gentleman who smiled at him vaguely. Elijah returned it and then gave his appearance one last lookover. He was still a bit red in the cheeks, and his eyes hadn't lost their fire, but he at least looked passably normal again. Everything else he could blame on the heat.

Charles Bingley and Darcy were mercifully gone when Elijah left the bathrooms and walked back into the event hall. He was halfway to the balconies when Charlotte caught him by the elbow. "There you are," she said. "I thought you'd fallen in. Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

She steered him across the room toward a little group clustered in the corner. Elijah was so busy rolling his eyes at her pushiness that he didn't realise he recognised the people until it was too late to make a safe retreat. Charles Bingley stood with one arm around Jane's waist, the other around the waist of the blonde model Elijah had seen before. Facing them, his hands buried deep in his pockets with a look of bored indifference on his face, was Darcy. Tall, Dark, and Douchey.

Well, shit.


	3. First Impressions

**Chapter Three - First Impressions**

Jane spotted them coming over and she beamed. "Oh Eli, Char," she said brightly, waving them over. "I wanted you both to meet Charles Bingley."

"Charlie, please," Bingley said, offering out a hand. "Only my parents call me Charles. Well, and Darce here."

"Elijah Bennet. Nice to meet you," Elijah said, shaking his hand. Charlie had one of the warmest, kindest smiles Elijah had ever seen. "This is a great party you've thrown."

"Thanks," Charlie said with a modest smile. "I'm really glad that you're enjoying yourself, and that you got to come. That's the best thing about events like this, meeting the people who make it all worth it." Elijah smiled at him; there was nothing at all condescending to his tone and he sounded as though he genuinely meant it. Charlie was quickly turning, in Elijah's regard, into the only person on earth who was as nice as Jane.

"Oh and this is my agent, Charlotte Lucas," Elijah said, putting a hand on the small of her back and ushering her forward. She smiled kindly as she shook Charlie's extended hand.

"This is my sister, Caroline," Charlie said, nudging the model. She smiled tightly but didn't offer her hand to anyone. "And my best friend, William Darcy," he finished clapping a hand on Tall, Dark, and Rude's shoulder.

"A pleasure," Darcy said shortly, extending a hand. Elijah took it, feeling an electric current shoot up his arm at the contact. Then he looked up at the condescending smirk on the other man's face and he fought back a scowl. He squeezed Darcy's hand a bit harder than necessary before drawing his hand back.

"Jane was just telling us about you," Charlie said, completely oblivious to the tension between the two men. "She says you're a novelist."

"I will be once we find a publisher," Elijah said with a shrug. "It's not an easy market to break in to."

"Eli's just being modest," Charlotte said, leaning into his side and grinning. "His book is brilliant. It's just hard finding someone who is willing to take a risk on a first time author."

"I find that if a book is as good as you say, the history of the author has little effect on the outcome of the novel," Darcy said, his bright blue gaze fixed on Elijah and one eyebrow cocked almost challengingly.

"Then it is a shame not all share your sentiment," Elijah replied. "There are a great many writers who continue to be published on the credibility of their name alone, despite the fact that their writing has gone considerably downhill since they first claimed their fame, and while the publishers are consumed with these prolific authors, hundreds of skilled new writers fall by the wayside."

Darcy seemed to regard Elijah thoughtfully for a second, and then his gaze flicked away disinterestedly, as if he'd already grown bored of the conversation. Elijah resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Charlie chuckled. "I think he's got you there, Darce," he said. "So Elijah, as a writer maybe you can help settle an argument Darcy and I were having. Where do you stand on poetry?"

"It was hardly an argument," Darcy interjected. "And you will do nothing to convince me by asking him. He is an artist, and they are all romantics, the lot of them. It is, after all, a wonderful way of wooing a lover."

"I have to disagree with you there, Mr. Darcy," said Elijah. The piercing blue gaze was a heavy weight on him, but Elijah refused to back down. "While I do love poetry, I don't feel that it is a good tool in romance. Poetry is a form of self-expression, of taking the words that are caught in the soul and giving them voice. It is not made for winning the hearts of others, but for expressing what is already there. I would not be wooed by pretty words simply because they were pretty. There has to be something behind them, a pre-existing emotion that gives the words purpose. Otherwise a word is just a word, and a poem is just a poem."

"Well spoken," Charlie said with a laugh. "See, Darce, I told you that there was more use to poetry than just charming ladies." Darcy hummed but made no further comment.

Unable to stand his persistent staring any longer, Elijah smiled at them all. "It was a pleasure to meet you all, but I must be moving on," he said. "I have other acquaintances to make tonight. Excuse me." He turned and walked away from the group, Charlotte beside him.

"Wow, sparks much?" Charlotte asked once they were out of earshot of the others.

"What do you mean?" Elijah asked.

"You and Mr. Darcy," she said. "The tension between you two was stifling. I almost choked on it. Not that I blame you, he is _gorgeous_."

"I can assure you, there is nothing between us," Elijah said, scoffing. "I've never met a more disagreeable man in my life. You would not believe the things I heard him saying earlier." Elijah recounted the conversation he'd overheard outside the bathrooms animatedly, and by the end Charlotte was gaping at him. "If he hates it so terribly here, why did he bother coming?" Elijah finished with a laugh. The whole thing seemed trivial and stupid now, and he just wanted to put William Darcy and the whole encounter to the back of his mind for good.

"How are he and Charles Bingley such good friends?" Charlotte asked. They stopped a passing waiter and got two more glasses of champagne. "I mean they are polar opposites."

"I don't know," Elijah said, shaking his head. "I don't really care. Let's just do what we came here to do, yeah?"

"Excellent," Charlotte said, looping her arm through his. "I met this lovely woman from HarperCollins earlier tonight, come on, I'll introduce you."

* * *

William Darcy was not a fan of these silly charity fundraisers of which his best friend made his living. It wasn't so much that he hated the principle of them - he was never opposed to raising awareness for the arts - but he did hate having to attend them. He never had been one for mingling and small talk with strangers, preferring to keep to the company of his close circle of friends, which basically included Charles and, by extension, his twin sister, Caroline.

Tonight he was especially frustrated at being in attendance. He had carefully planned his stay in New York to accommodate all of the business he needed to take care of at the New York branch of Pemberley Publishing. Then out of the blue, Charles swept in with his big blue eyes and pouting face and pleases, and the next thing he knew William had cleared his evening of paperwork for a night of socializing with New York's publishing middle-ground.

Charles was lucky he liked him so much.

William flagged down a waiter and accepted another glass of champagne. He would credit Charles this, he didn't skimp on the drinks when he threw a party, even when it was less than the highest class of people in attendance. Already William had been forced to talk to several low-grade agents and authors who had made a small following through self-publishing. Normally he at least had Charles to keep him company, but his best friend was currently drowning in the eyes of a pretty brunette woman.

Instead he was stuck dealing with a rather whiney and petulant Caroline Bingley, who was bored stiff by the literary crowd and no doubt would prefer to be out at a party, keeping her name in the presses as much as humanly possible. Once the highest paid model in New York City, Caroline had reached the weary age of twenty-nine - practically ancient in the modelling world - and found that her fame was slipping away along with her youth. Her desperation to remain on top led her to doing increasingly brash and wild things in an effort to stop her name from disappearing from the public mind altogether.

"Really, William, we should just leave," she said, digging her pink lipstick from her bag and reapplying it with a practiced hand. "It's not like Charlie would notice we've gone, and we could be having so much more fun somewhere else." The way she batted her eyes at him made her motives all too clear, but William was uninterested.

Truth be told, he was uninterested in women as a whole. It was a carefully guarded secret he had revealed to no one, not even his best friend or his little sister, Gina. He had spent the better part of his life struggling to come to terms with the truth himself. William had been raised in an upper-class, conservative world that didn't smile upon anything out of the ordinary. His family name had already been at risk once, during the whole event with his sister; he didn't want to be the reason for all of the gossip and slander. So William dealt with the situation by remaining the perpetual bachelor, married only to his work and wholeheartedly devoted to his sister and his best friend. They served as all the relationships he needed.

"I gave my word to Charles," William said indifferently, brushing off Caroline's offer.

Caroline huffed and went back to watching her brother twirl the lithe brunette around the dancefloor. William, feeling eyes on him, looked towards the doors. For a split second his eyes connected with another pair - soft, expressive, and the richest chocolate brown he'd ever seen. William felt his stomach lurch. Before he could take in anything else of the figure, the man turned his back and disappeared outside.

Folding his arms tightly over his chest, as if that would somehow slow the racing of his heart, William closed his eyes and breathed out heavily through his nose. He had never felt so immediately drawn to a person before. Part of him longed to run out onto the balcony after the other man, but the practical part of him held back. There were photographers mingling all over, both in the event and on the ground below. All it would take would be one photograph, one picture of William Darcy, Britain's Most Eligible Bachelor, making mooney eyes at a bloke, and the rumour mills would go mad.

When William opened his eyes again, Caroline had wandered across to the bar and Charles was approaching him with a dazed grin on his face. "Still lurking, are we?" Charles asked.

"I'm not _lurking_," William said. "I'm observing." William was only half paying attention as Charles raved about his pretty dance partner, unimpressed by his arguments. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for Charles to go mad over a woman, although even William had to admit that this time he seemed more besotted than usual.

Feeling anxious and jittery, William was rather terse with Charles as he tried to get him involved in the party. By the time he suggested that William make friends with his new lady's brother, William was in no mood to humour him.

The name Bennet, however, triggered something in his memory. Just earlier that week, his assistant editor, Mrs. Reynolds, had passed along a book she thought he might enjoy. _Chaos in a Bottle,_ by Elijah Bennet. It was a young adult romance, hardly the sort of book William regularly indulged in, but Mrs. Reynolds had insisted and she had never led him wrong before.

William had wound up spending the entire night reading the book straight through in one sitting, spending equal amounts of time laughing aloud and crying. It had been brilliant, a work of pure, artistic genius, with more heart and soul in its three-hundred pages than the entirety of the books currently in his publishing line. He would've snapped the book up immediately had his queue for the year not already been full. Also he imagined that it had already been bought by another company before he had even had the chance to read it, behind as he was in reading his new submissions.

So he spoke truthfully. "I think I have no advice to help him," he said, which was true. There was little he could advise to make the book any better than it already was. "His book came across my desk. It was decent enough."

"Decent enough?" Charles asked, his eyebrows shooting up. "Hell, Darce, that's glowing praise from you. It must've been something special."

"Indeed," William agreed.

Charles suddenly straightened up, smoothing down his shirt self-consciously. "There she is," he said, his eyes fixed across the room. William looked over to see the tall brunette chatting amiably with Caroline Bingley. "Come on, I want you to meet her."

William allowed himself to be shepherded across the room to where the two women stood. Introductions were made and then William settled back into his usual position as watcher while the other three chatted amiably. Jane Bennet was nice, albeit in a detached, almost uninterested way. She lacked the same enthusiastic passion that Charles poured into everything. William felt his suspicions rise immediately against what his best friend clearly couldn't see.

He was forcibly removed from his thoughts when Jane Bennet suddenly exclaimed, waving over her friends. William looked up at the newcomers and felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. There, arm and arm with a petite redhead, was the man with the chocolate eyes. He was tall, just an inch or two shorter than William himself, and dressed in an impeccable gray and black suit. His thick hair, the colour of dark caramel, was swept up to reveal a high, smooth brow. Although his expression was open and friendly, it was his eyes that were truly captivating. Deep, rich brown and almond-shaped, they had a fiery spark of life and passion to them that ignited something in William's chest.

The man introduced himself as Elijah Bennet and William's heart leapt. Here was the man who had written that beautiful story, the same man with the enchanting eyes. Could fate really be so cruel as to put such a perfect man in front of him when he had sworn off relationships? It was so unfair that he should be taunted with such a good match when he knew that it was not in the cards for him.

A hand on his shoulder made William realise he was being introduced and he stiffly held out his hand. "A pleasure," he said, resisting the urge to turn and run. Elijah took his hand and gripped it tightly, making the warmth that had blossomed in William's stomach churn like molten metal.

Although part of him wanted to make his escape and get as far away from the conversation and the spark in Elijah's eyes as he could, the other half of him was rooted to the spot, completely entranced. As the conversation rolled on Elijah Bennet continued to surprise him at every turn, proving himself to be just as insightful as his book had led William to believe. He met William's challenge at every turn and managed to one-up his comments with grace and just a hint of sarcastic wit.

All too soon, Elijah bid them farewell and he disappeared along with his red-haired agent. William watched him go, feeling the loss acutely. He was still staring at the spot where Elijah and his agent had been standing minutes before when Caroline startled him by looping her arm through his. "What are you thinking about, Will?" she asked. "How dreadfully boring this evening has been? I would love to hear your opinion on it all."

"I'm afraid my mind was otherwise engaged," he said. "And more agreeably."

"Oh?" Caroline asked, a penciled eyebrow arching high on her forehead. "How so?"

William's lips quirked in a move reminiscent of a smile. "I was thinking about the pleasure bestowed by a pair of fine eyes in a charming face."

Caroline leaned against him, fluttering her lashes in a way that indicated she thought he was talking about her watery blue eyes. "Oh, and what woman's eyes have caught your attention then?"

"None," William replied honestly. He carefully extracted his arm from hers and pulled out his phone. "If you'll excuse me, I have to send an email." He slipped out onto the balcony, reveling in the feel of the cool city air against his warm skin. He took a seat on one of the plush white settees and opened his email browser on his phone. Pulling up Mrs. Reynolds' office email, he typed out a hasty email.

_Mrs. Reynolds,_

_First thing Monday, I would like you to contact the agent who submitted that novel you gave me. Tell them we are prepared to make an offer._

_-WD_


	4. Judge of Character

**Chapter Four - Judge of Character**

Elijah slept late the next day, enjoying the welcoming comfort of his memory-foam mattress and bedside fan. There was a dull throbbing in the base of his skull, not strong enough to be painful but definitely making its presence known, reminding him that he'd had a few too many glasses of the expensive champagne the night before. He was comfortably tangled in the microfiber sheets and he wanted nothing more than to stay in the idyllic fantasy world his subconscious had crafted for him. A fantasy world filled with five o'clock shadows and frosty blue eyes.

All at once, Elijah's eyes snapped open and he groaned at his traitorous brain. He had been so warm and comfortable, the last thing he wanted to be thinking about was William Darcy. All of his physical attractiveness did nothing to make up for the fact that he was an intolerable, elitist arsehole. And he had been in such a good mood before...

Well there was no way he was getting back to sleep now. Elijah reluctantly dragged himself out of bed, tugging up the sagging waistband of his flannel sleep pants, and wandered out of his bedroom. He could hear music coming from the kitchen and he wandered down the hall of their tiny flat in search of the source. When he rounded the corner into the combined kitchen and dining room, he stopped short.

Jane was wide awake, already dressed in her yoga clothes with her hair piled up in a high ponytail on the top of her head. She stood at the counter, mixing something in a bowl and singing along with a top forty hit on the radio. Her hips were bouncing in time with the beat, doing an energetic dance as she sang in a clear, lilting soprano.

Elijah smile as he leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms over his bare chest. "Someone's in a good mood," he teased.

Spinning around so quick she almost stumbled, Jane fixed him with the look of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Eli, you're up."

"How could I sleep with your caterwauling?" he asked with a smirk. Jane shook her head but a pleasant flush had crept across her cheeks. His eyes flicked passed her to the bowl of pale batter and he immediately perked up. "You're making pancakes. Definitely in a good mood then."

"I just thought I'd make you breakfast," Jane said, turning back to the batter. "To thank you for taking me with you last night. I really had the most wonderful time."

"I'm glad," Elijah said. He moved over to lean against the counter, dipping a finger into the batter. Jane tutted lightly as he stuck the digit in his mouth, humming in approval. "So, you and Charlie really hit it off."

Jane had clearly been keeping herself under control all night, but now that it was just the two of them, her true feelings burst out. "Oh Eli, he's wonderful," Jane said enthusiastically.

Naturally beautiful from birth, Jane Bennet had grown up being idolised and sought after by everyone. She was the girl that all other girls were envious of, and all of the boys wanted to have for their own. Her kind nature stopped the attention from going to her head, but it still left its mark on her. She was so used to the public eye that she had learned from an early age to temper herself and kept all of her emotions carefully under wraps.

This was most especially true when it came to the world of men, where her inability to see the bad in anyone had led her astray more than once. She had grown careful and selective in her choices, and she rarely got swept up in the rush of burgeoning relationships. Used to being fawned over, she generally did not openly react to flirting or advances. It took someone who knew her well to see the emotions brimming beneath the constant soft smile she wore.

Which is how Elijah knew that she was serious as she continued to go on about her night with Charles Bingley.

"I've never met somebody I've connected with so perfectly before," she said. "We have everything in common. And he's so sweet and charming, and the perfect gentleman. He has such a sense of humour, I never stopped laughing. We talked for hours and never ran out of things to say. Did you know that he does volunteer work in the city? Like, not just throwing parties, but he actually visits people and teaches kids to read? He's the most amazing man."

Eli beamed at the smile on his big sister's face. "You guys really seem like a perfect match," he agreed. "Both of you are unbelievably nice and spend your time giving back. Think of how much good you could do the world together? Are you going to see him again?"

"He asked for my number," Jane admitted, her cheeks turning from pink to red. "Do you think he'll really call?"

"Of course he will," Elijah said. "It was obvious he's completely taken with you. I'd be surprised if he doesn't call you today."

"You think?" Jane asked hopefully. When Eli nodded her face broke out in an enormous grin again. "I'm just so amazed he even wanted to dance with me in the first place."

"Why? Anyone with eyes could see that you were five times prettier than any other girl in the room," Elijah said. "Well I'm glad you like him. He seems like a nice guy. Definitely better than that last twat you dated."

"Eli!" Jane admonished.

"Well he was," he said unrepentantly. "You were just too nice to see it. You always do see the best in everyone, Janey. I've never heard you say a bad word about anyone in your life."

"I just try not to judge others too quickly," she replied, turning her attention back to making the pancakes. "Unlike some people I know."

Elijah frowned. "What do you mean? Me?"

"You do sometimes make hasty decisions about people," Jane said. "You take little details and use them to make sweeping declarations about people. Especially when it comes to men, even men you like. Like with Roger."

"He didn't even bother to ask what I wanted before he ordered for me," Elijah said disparagingly. "I could've been allergic or a vegetarian for all he knew. Clearly he didn't think of me as being capable of independent thought. He just wanted someone to pay attention to him."

"And Ethan," Jane prompted.

"He always refused to dance with me when we went to the club," Elijah said, shrugging. "He was such a bore and he wasn't interested in doing anything fun."

"Or perhaps he was just self-conscious," she suggested. Elijah scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I don't mean to be rude, but you do sometimes jump to conclusions about people."

"What about William Darcy?" Elijah said. "Do you think I'm wrong about him? Even you have to agree he's an insufferable jackass."

Jane cringed. During the taxi ride home, Elijah had filled her in on the conversation he had overheard between Darcy and Bingley. Even Jane had been indignant about what Darcy had said about Elijah's book. "You might have heard it out of context," she offered, digging a spatula out of the drawer and flipping the pancakes.

"And what's his excuse for the rest of the night?" Elijah pressed. "He was stand-offish and rude all night. And the way he kept judging me about my love of poetry? It was like he was just looking for things to criticise me about."

"I will admit that at times his demeanour was less than agreeable," she conceded. "There very well could have been a reason for it though. Charlie says he's painfully shy."

"He's painfully _something_," Elijah muttered.

Jane gave him an exasperated look, the closest she came to ever being openly annoyed with someone. "I'm just saying perhaps you should give him the benefit of the doubt before judging him so harshly."

"And I'm saying that benefit of the doubt is how Anthony broke your heart," Elijah said. This time Jane visibly flinched and Elijah immediately regretted the words. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Janey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

In her first few years of college Jane had been seeing a man named Anthony Durrant. They had had a whirlwind romance that had resulted in their mother talking passionately about weddings. That all came crumbling down when Anthony was caught with another woman. The affair had devastated Jane, and Elijah couldn't count the number of nights she had crawled into his bed, sobbing and wondering what she had done wrong.

"No, you're right," Jane said. "Anthony betrayed my trust. I believed in him and he proved me wrong. But Anthony is just one guy. There are still plenty more out there. I want to believe - I have to believe - that there are still good men in the world worth trusting. Perhaps you should too." Elijah tipped his head, drawing designs on the countertop with his fingertip as he tried to come up to a good argument.

"I'm just worried for you," he admitted. "I'm just afraid that one day someone will try to take advantage of how nice you are. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know," Jane said. She walked around the counter to hug him. "But that's my problem to deal with, not yours. Just think about it, okay?"

"Okay," Elijah agreed. He tugged the end of his sister's ponytail playfully and she swatted him with the spatula.

"Okay, enough seriousness for one morning," Jane said. "Sit yourself down. Pancakes are ready."

Elijah obliged, setting out two places for them as Jane brought over the platter of pancakes and bottle of maple syrup. They had sat down and dished up their breakfast before Elijah spoke again. "So for the first time in a month, we both have a Saturday off," he said over his glass of milk. "We are having a Jane and Eli day. What should we do?"

"Lunch at Forster's, for sure," she said and Eli nodded. Forester's was their favourite local diner, a little hole in the wall owned by a jovial old military colonel who made the best homestyle dinners in Queens. They made a point to visit as often as they could. "And maybe window shopping for clothes we can't afford?"

"Sounds like a plan," Elijah agreed with a laugh.

Their day together went even better than they had planned. Despite their plans not to spend money, they had stumbled across a special one-day sale in a boutique. They left the store more than an hour later, Jane carrying two skirts and a pair of metallic gladiator sandals while Elijah had jeans, two shirts, and a new scarf. They carted their bags with them into Forester's and were immediately greeted by the owner, who was making the rounds among his customers.

"Hey, Bennets!" he greeted them brightly, his deep, Brooklyn drawl dragging the words out. "I knew I'd be seein' ya today. Come in, then, ya favourite spot's still open." He ushered them to a cosy little table by the window and produced his little notepad with a flourish. "'Cho gettin' the usual, then?"

"I'll have a coffee instead of a Coke today," Elijah said. "Other than that I'm good." When Jane nodded her agreement the colonel took off with a grin. He brought back their drinks with a promise that their food would be out shortly, and then left Jane and Elijah alone to chat idly.

Jane was in the middle of an amusing anecdote about a fingerpainting session with her youngest class at the Y when her phone began crooning an Ingrid Michaelson song. She glanced at the number on the screen and frowned curiously before answering. "Hello?"

Elijah watched in awe as her face changed shades very quickly, her usual milky complexion giving way to bright pink patches high on her cheeks. She smiled into the phone and he guessed who it was a split second before she said, "Oh, Charlie, hi."

Sitting back in his chair, Elijah tried not to act too interested as she talked to Charles Bingley, but he couldn't help but overhear her side of the conversation. "I wasn't expecting you to call so soon...Ah, that's so nice of you...Yes, I had a wonderful time...Really?...Oh wow that's...Are you sure?...Um, yeah, Monday sounds brilliant...I'll see you there...Alright, bye."

She hung up the phone, unable to contain the wide smile on her face. She met Elijah's gaze across the table and an excited squeak escaped her. "I told you he would call," Elijah said triumphantly. "So, what'd he say?"

"He asked me out to dinner on Monday," Jane said. "He's taking me to Daniel."

"Seriously?" Elijah asked in surprise. "That really ritzy place on Park Avenue? Damn, he's not sparing any expense on impressing you."

"I don't think he's trying to impress me," Jane said, her cheeks still flushed. "His sister recommended it, she says they have the best lobster and Charlie remembered me saying that I liked lobster."

"Oh right, his sister," Elijah said, less than enthusiastically.

"She's actually really nice," said Jane. "She was just tired, she'd been away on a photo shoot all week and just got back that afternoon. But she gave me loads of advice on fashion and how to do my hair. I really like her."

"You really like everyone," Elijah said, but he laughed to soften the comment. "Well I'm glad you like her. The way things are going, she might be your actual sister someday."

Jane turned red all the way to the tips of her ears. "Eli, don't tease."

"Alright, sorry," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I really am happy for you though, Janey. Although I'm not looking forward to tomorrow night's dinner." Jane wrinkled her brow questioningly. "Think how Mom's going to react when she finds out you've got a date with one of the richest men in New York. She's going to have kittens."

"Oh." Jane winced slightly. "She'll care about more than just the fact that his rich, though."

"Will she?" Elijah asked sceptically.

"Of course," Jane said. "She married for love, that's all she wants for us as well. All of us," she added, reaching across the table to squeeze Elijah's hand.

A distraction arrived in that moment as a waitress brought out their lunches, and Elijah gratefully seized the change in topic. He loved Jane dearly, but he wasn't as optimistic about their mother's acceptance of his sexual orientation. So he picked up his fork and said, "So what are you going to wear? Have to dress up for a place like that." Jane latched onto the subject eagerly and they spent the rest of their lunch discussing in depth exactly what she would wear on her first date with Charles Bingley.


	5. A Change of Fortunes

**Chapter Five - A Change of Fortunes**

Monday morning found Elijah leaning his elbows against the front counter of the library, his head cradled in his hands. There was a dull throbbing between his eyes that hadn't faded from the night before. He had been right when he'd predicted their mother's reaction to Jane's date with Charles Bingley. His conservative, Christian, southern mother had actually _whooped_ with joy, jumping up and down and shrieking her excitement loud enough for all of Nassau county to hear. Despite the fact that near everyone had work the following morning, she had kept them all late celebrating, breaking out the bottle of special wine usually reserved for holidays.

"You look dreadful." Elijah looked up to see Maria Li, one of the library assistants, standing on the other side of the counter. She was a petite Asian girl with her hair cut in a jagged pixie and a wardrobe that consisted almost entirely of black and neons. Despite her somewhat rough, punk exterior, she was incredibly gentle and friendly, and Elijah had taken an immediate liking to her when she had been hired at the library several months ago. "Rough night?"

"Family dinner," Elijah said, and Maria nodded. She had heard enough about his family to know that that was an answer in and of itself. "Do I really look that bad?"

"Just looks like you've got a bangin' hangover," she said with a shrug.

"Not entirely inaccurate," Elijah admitted with a laugh. When his mom broke out the good wine, she made sure it was the good stuff. Not quite so pricey as the champagne from Netherfield, but still potent. He'd also had to drink quite a lot just to deal with his mother's incessant chattering. The only relief had been that because Mrs. Bennet's entire attention was focused on Jane's love life, she had for once not been pestering him about his own.

"Had a bit too much of your mother last night, huh?" Maria asked, giggling. She had opened her mouth to say more but a mother with her small children approached the front counter with their arms full of books. Maria smiled pleasantly at the kids and then took off with her cart of books to be put away.

Elijah straightened up and grinned at the little family. His phone was vibrating in his pocket but he ignored it in favour of doing his job. "Hello there, found yourself some books?" he asked, directing his question at the children.

"Kitty book!" the little girl with blonde pigtails said eagerly, holding the book up so Elijah could see it.

Smiling, Elijah chatted amiably with the family as he checked the books out for them. The little boy was quiet and shuffled self-consciously, but the girl was all too eager to tell him about her favourite books in the animated gibberish of a toddler. When they had finished and left the library, Elijah pulled out his phone. To his surprise he had a missed call from Charlotte, followed immediately by a text.

_Call me back asap!_

Elijah frowned, his brow furrowing. Charlotte very rarely resorted to texting; she hated the impersonal nature of it. If she had bothered to text him, something really important must be up. As much as he tried to stop his hopes from climbing, just in case, he couldn't help the thrill that surged in his stomach.

Slipping out from behind the counter, Elijah wandered over to the non-fiction section where he'd last seen Maria. She was scanning the shelves, a book poised in her hand and ready to be put into its proper place. "Hey Maria, can you man the counter for a second?" he asked. "I have to return a call real quick."

"Yeah, no problem," she said, dropping the thick book back onto her cart. She walked over to stand behind the counter while Elijah stepped out of the back door of the library. Standing in the little alcove between the Queens Central Library and the large Islamic church next door, he dialled Charlotte's mobile.

It only rang once before Charlotte picked up. "Eli, oh good, you got my message," she said breathlessly.

"Yeah, what's up?" Elijah asked, feeling his heart rate climbing.

"We did it!"

The three simple words shot straight through to Elijah's core. His heart skipped a beat and he staggered as his legs shook. The steady sounds of the road and the normal hum of New York faded into the background as his heart throbbed in his ears. "We - what?" he gasped out finally after several long seconds of silence.

"I called you as soon as I got off the phone," Charlotte said. "We did it, Eli. We got a publisher."

"Please tell me this isn't a joke," Elijah said weakly as his legs threatened to buckle underneath him. Tremors were vibrating through his entire body and he felt equal parts elation and absolute terror.

"You know I'd never do that," Charlotte said. "I mean it. This morning the assistant editor from Pemberley Publishing called and said they want to publish your book. It's going to take us a little while to get the contract ironed out and sorted, but this is going to happen. Congratulations, Elijah, you're one step closer to being a published author."

Elijah was torn between screaming in pleasure and fainting. He felt immediately light-headed and he collapsed against the wall for support. "Oh my God," he breathed. "We did it. I mean, I always hoped, but I - I was started to think it wouldn't happen."

"I knew we could do it," Charlotte said smugly. "I always told you we'd get there. Your book is brilliant, it just took a while for someone to see that."

"You are the best, Char," Elijah said, laughing dazedly. "I mean it. Thank you, thank you so much. Look, I gotta get back to work, but we're going out this week, drinks on me to celebrate."

Charlotte laughed. "Sounds like a plan," she said. "Have fun at work."

Elijah hung up and tucked the phone back into his pocket. For a moment he merely stood there, shaking and breathless, and then an ecstatic grin burst across his face. He leapt into the air, feeling as if he could fly. It took several minutes of energetic dancing before he managed to get himself back under control.

His mind went immediately to Jane and he grabbed his phone again. He had halfway typed a text to her before he paused. No, he wanted to tell her in person. Erasing the text, he quickly keyed in another. _Got great news to tell you tonight._ He sent the text with a hasty jab of the button and then buried his phone in his pocket.

He was walking on air when he let himself back into the library. Maria looked up when he came around the corner from the back offices and her eyebrows shot up curiously. "You okay, Eli?"

Elijah was beaming as he moved around the counter and pulled the startled undergrad in for a hug. "Honestly? Never been better."

* * *

For the rest of the day, Elijah had a hard time focusing. Whenever he wasn't busy helping a library patron, he found his mind wandering. He would look around at the shelves of books around him and the realisation struck him that one day, his own book would be sitting on those shelves. At one point he even wandered over to the young adult section and found the exact spot where it would sit, there among the B's, in between Benitez and Benson.

He was antsy and bouncing on the balls of his feet by the time the end of his shift finally rolled around. Bidding a quick farewell to the handful of other librarians, he grabbed his things and headed for home. It was a relatively short walk to the Longbourne Deli, the hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop beneath their flat, but today it took everything Elijah had in him not to run the whole way home. He jogged the last block and clambered up the rusting staircase to the door.

"Janey?" Elijah called as he let himself into the flat.

"In here," came the reply from down the short hall. Elijah tossed his coat over the back of the sofa and then headed to his sister's bedroom. Jane was sprawled across her bed, a book open on the foot of the bed in front of her. She sat up when he entered the room. "Hey, what's up? I got your text."

Elijah sat down on the end of the bed, practically vibrating with pent-up excitement. He had been waiting all day and the truth burst out of him in a tangled rush. "Igotapublisher!" he shouted, the words blurring together into one in his haste.

Jane's doe eyes blinked twice. "What was that?"

"I got a publisher," Elijah repeated, forcing himself to slow down and breathe. "They called Char this morning. Someone's going to publish my book!"

The expression on Jane's face switched so quickly Elijah was surprised she didn't pull a muscle. She went from confusion to shock to excitement in the blink of an eye, and before he'd even realised what was happening, she had thrown her arms around his neck. "Oh my God, Eli, I'm so excited for you!" she shrieked in his ear. "I knew you could do it!"

Elijah was beaming as he hugged his older sister back. Sharing the news with her had brought the reality of the situation home and he felt elated tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. "I just can't believe this is really happening, Janey," he admitted, his voice quavering.

Jane drew back and smiled. "I can," she said confidently. "I always knew this day would come." She reached out and brushed away a stray tear that had escaped his eyes with her thumb. "I always believed in you."

There was nothing more Elijah could say to that, so he simply reached out and pulled her into the circle of his arms again. For a long moment he just clung to her, letting the full weight of the news settle over him, and then he laughed. "This is surreal."

"We need to go out and celebrate," Jane said, bouncing on the mattress. "Dinner on me."

"But your date," Elijah said. She had been talking all weekend about her date with Charlie Bingley, getting exponentially more excited and nervous as the day had gotten closer.

"It's okay, I can reschedule," Jane said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "This is important, Charlie will understand."

"No, Janey, don't do that," Elijah said. "I appreciate the offer but really, I don't want you to cancel your date. I know how much you've been looking forward to it. Look, I'm taking Char out for drinks later this week to celebrate, you should come with and we can all celebrate together then. We can do dinner and drinks and maybe go dancing, do a big thing then instead."

"Are you sure?" Jane asked. As uncertain as she looked, Elijah was resolved. Jane never did anything for herself, always sacrificing what she wanted to make other people happy. He wasn't going to let her give up on this.

"Positive," he said. "Now c'mon, let's get you all dolled up. You've got a fancy date tonight."

Elijah lingered on the bed while Jane dressed in her silver and white dress, with the illusion neckline and sequined bodice. Her pale skin against the shimmery dress made her look ethereal and majestic, and paired with silver heels her legs looked miles long. She twisted her hair up in a braided knot and then turned to him apprehensively. "How do I look?"

"Like a goddess," Elijah replied with a smile. Jane flushed. "Seriously, Janey, if he wasn't completely in love with you before, he will be when he sees you tonight."

Elijah was in the middle of helping Jane put on her favourite necklace when there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it," he said, fastening the necklace. Jane nodded as she picked up her earrings to put them in. Elijah walked down the hall and peered through the peephole in the door. On the other side was none other than Charles Bingley, dressed in an immaculate black suit and clutching a small bouquet of bright white lilies and clusters of pale lavender.

Grinning, Elijah opened the door. "Charlie, hi," he said.

"Elijah, it's good to see you," Charlie said, offering out his hand, which Elijah shook. "Is Jane in?"

"She's just finishing getting ready," Elijah said. "I didn't know you were going to pick her up."

"I wanted to surprise her," Charlie admitted with a timid smile. The whole thing just reaffirmed Elijah's conclusion that Charlie Bingley was the sweetest man on earth. If there was anyone deserving of Jane, it might very well be Charlie.

"Come on in," Elijah said, stepping back to let the other man into the flat. "I'll go get her." As Charlie shifted on the living room floor, looking just a little bit nervous, Elijah went back down to Jane's bedroom. She was just tucking the last of her things into a little clutch purse, and she looked up when he stepped into the room. "It's for you," he said.

"Me?" Jane asked curiously. He could tell she wanted more, but he wasn't about to ruin the surprise. Jane nodded and he followed her as she made her way out to the living room. Jane stopped short at the end of the hall, her eyes wide. "Charlie," she said.

"Wow, Jane," Charlie replied, stars in his eyes as he took her in. "You look absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you," Jane said, her cheeks turning a pleasant pink. Elijah lingered back, trying to remain inconspicuous as the couple drank in the sight of each other.

"Oh, these are for you," Charlie said, holding out the bouquet.

Jane's face lit up. "My favourite, how did you know?" she asked. She accepted the bouquet and breathed deeply.

"You said at the ball," Charlie said, grinning delightedly. "Well, if you're ready, there's a car waiting for us."

"Yes, just let me put these in water," Jane said.

"Go on, I'll take care of them," Elijah said. Jane passed the flowers off to him with a thank you. Then she kissed him on the cheek before saying farewell. Charlie was smiling as he offered an arm out to her and led her out of the flat. Elijah watched from the window as he held the door of the sleek black luxury car for her and then the pair drove off into the rush of city cars.

Elijah smiled as he took the flowers into the kitchen and put them in a vase of water. Then, eager to tell someone else who would appreciate his good news, he pulled out his phone and dialled his father's mobile number. It rang four times before the line clicked, and an automated voice said, "The number you have dialled is currently unavailable. Leave a message after the tone."

"Hey Dad," Elijah said after the tinny beep. "Just calling to give you some good news. My book got a publisher. Char's still working out all the details with them and everything, but we've got a real publisher now. Anyway, just wanted to let you know. Call me back when you get a chance."

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Elijah decided he deserved a night of relaxation to enjoy his achievement. He changed into his pyjamas early and then took two pieces of leftover pizza from the fridge as well as a bowl of the ice cream. Carrying his treasures, he settled down in front of the telly to get caught up on his favourite shows.


	6. Siblings

**Chapter Six - Siblings**

The scrape of a key in the lock made Elijah jerk awake, and then immediately groan at the odd angle his head had been while he'd been asleep. The television was playing late night infomercials to the room, his show long since over, and he had been curled up in the armchair. The lock on the front door clicked and then the door eased open. The glow of the telly screen caught a shimmery silver figure slipping quietly into the room.

"You're home late," Elijah said, glancing at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning.

Jane spun around, obviously not realising he was awake, and even in the darkness he could see that she had gone pink. "Oh, Eli, I thought you were asleep," she said. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Elijah smiled. "It's fine, I just nodded off watching telly," he said, straightening up in the armchair. Jane flicked on the living room light and heaped her jacket and purse on the back of the sofa. "So, how was your date?"

"Oh Eli, it was magical," Jane said, sitting down on the sofa and folding her hands in front of her heart. "I've never had such a great evening in my life. The restaurant was absolutely breathtaking and the food was divine. Then he took me to this building in Upper Manhattan that he owns, and we went up to the roof, and there was a beautiful view and this little dessert picnic set up. We sat up there and ate ice cream sundaes and just talked for hours."

"Wow," Elijah said, his eyes wide. "I think I'm falling for this guy too."

Jane giggled. "It really was the most perfect night."

"It sounds like it," Elijah said. "Jane, I'm so happy for you. So, did he kiss you?"

"He was the perfect gentleman," she said, her ears darkening slightly. "When he dropped me off here, he kissed my hand."

Elijah had to resist the urge to _d'awwwh_ aloud at the cheesy, old-fashioned romance of the gesture. "When are you seeing him again?" he asked instead.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that," she said. "Charlie invited us to come spend the weekend at his house in the Hamptons."

"Us?" Elijah asked sceptically. "He wants me to come along as well? I really don't want to be a third wheel."

"You won't be," Jane said quickly. "Charlie's sister Caroline will be there as well, and he said he might have a few friends over also. It's just for two nights, for the long weekend. He's going to be having a big Memorial Day barbeque and everything, and he really wants you to be there. He wants you to meet Caroline and get to spend some time together. And I told him about your book, and he wants to celebrate."

"It's like he's family already," Elijah said with a laugh and Jane blushed again. "So tell me, Janey, honestly. You think he's the One?"

"I really do," she said. "I know it's fast and that's completely insane, but I've never met somebody that I've connected with like I have with Charlie. He's - he's perfect. If I could spend the rest of my life as happy as I have been since I met him..." She trailed off, a serenely dazed look on her face and the giddiest smile Elijah had ever seen graced his sister's mouth.

"Okay then, I suppose as your brother I ought to get to know him better then," he said. "Check him out, make sure this guy's really good enough for you. And I suppose it wouldn't hurt to make nice with his sister either, since it sounds like we're going to be in-laws someday."

Jane's cheeks had turned bright fuschia at his comment, but she smiled nonetheless. "Thank you, Eli, I really appreciate it," she said. "We're going to have so much fun."

"Yeah well who can turn down a chance to spend the weekend at some posh house in the Hamptons, right?" he said. "It's probably the only chance I'll ever get to stay there."

"Until your book sells a billion copies and you can afford to buy a house there," Jane said. She walked over and sat down on the arm of his chair, taking his hand in hers. "I really am so proud of you, Eli. I knew you could make it big and now you're on your way there. I know things have been hard on you for the last few years, but they're really looking up now."

"For you too," he said, squeezing her much smaller hand. "Ever since Anthony... But you've got Charlie now, and he seems like a really great guy. I'm happy for you, sis." Jane smiled, but it was quickly broken when her lips parted in a yawn. Elijah laughed. "We should get to bed. It's after one and we've both got work in the morning."

"That's probably a good idea," Jane agreed. They both stood and Elijah turned off the television before heading down the hall to their bedrooms. Jane stopped him before he could slip into his room and she pulled him into a hug. "Congratulations, Eli."

"Thanks, Janey," Elijah said, kissing the top of her head. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Yes you could have," Jane said, laughing.

"Okay so I could've, but it wouldn't have been as much fun," he said and tugged on a piece of hair that had come loose from her bun. "Love you."

"You too," Jane said and she gave him one more quick hug before darting into her bedroom. Elijah climbed into bed and lay on his back, staring at the slats of light on the ceiling cast by the blinds in the window. He'd done it. He was really going to be a published author.

A smile on his lips, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

William Darcy couldn't sleep. He had spent the last few hours tossing and turning until he was so completely tangled in the sheets he couldn't move his legs. When the clock on his bedside table reached two a.m. he finally gave up and extricated himself from the blankets. The hardwood flooring of his penthouse flat was cool on his bare feet, and he shivered in nothing but his boxers. He grabbed a t-shirt from the closet and pulled it on before heading downstairs to the main room.

The light of the full moon shone through the wall of glass that edged his living room so brightly that he almost didn't need to turn on the lights. It cast the room into sharp relief, the sleek lines and angles of the modern furniture throwing shadows up the walls. William found the light switch and flipped it up, bathing the room in the golden white glow.

All of his work was still spread out across the desk against the wall, the pages lying about in perfect stacks where he'd left them. If he wasn't going to sleep, he may as well get some work done. He padded over to the desk and sat down in the comfortable swivel chair. His eyes panned over the papers in front of him. Numbered manuscript pages, the margins filled with red editing marks and commentary, covered every inch of his desk.

Taking on another book had put him over his usual quota for the year. Even though he was technically the CEO and owner of Pemberley Publishing, he still worked as an editor as well. It was the work he most enjoyed, taking author's crafts and helping to smooth out the rough edges to make them into polished gems. Even as the CEO of the company, he hadn't been willing to give up on his favourite part of the job.

So every year he took on two or three books to edit and sell personally, only half as many as his actual editors but as much as he could handle while also managing the business. His quota had already been met for the year when Mrs. Reynolds, his assistant editor from his New York branch, had sent along a manuscript that she thought he would like.

To say that he liked the book would have been a massive understatement. He had read a great many books in his life and very few had captivated him in quite the way that _Chaos in a Bottle_ had. It had its faults, as all manuscripts did, but very few had such potential. How it hadn't been picked up by another company before he got to it, he had no idea, but he had been thrilled to find out that it was still available.

Despite the fact that he had already taken on three books for the year, he hadn't been willing to let anyone else work on the manuscript. Which is how he found himself buried in more work than he had ever attempted to take on at one time. He had spent several nights in a row up until the early hours of the morning trying to devote the proper amount of time to each book without falling behind on the business end of Pemberley.

Fetching a glass of water from his kitchen, William sat down at the desk and got to work. He disappeared into the printed words on the page, marking errors as he noticed them and adding notes to himself in the margins. He was so deeply invested in his work that he didn't notice the sky lightening outside the windows.

The monochromatic chirping of his phone from the bedroom jerked William from a particularly intense moment of action in the novel. He blinked around in surprise when he realised that the sun had come up, filling his living room with pale yellow light. Shaking away the sudden bout of exhaustion, he raced upstairs and grabbed his mobile from the nightstand. The familiar number brought a small smile over his lips and he answered.

"Hello, Gina," he said, his sleep-deprived gruff tone softening affectionately.

"Oh good, Will, you're awake," Gina said and he could hear her smile through the phone speaker. "I was afraid you'd still be asleep. I can't remember what the time difference is for over there."

William glanced at the clock, the red digital numbers declaring it six in the morning. With daylight savings, that put his London-based little sister five hours ahead of him. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?" he asked.

Gina giggled. "Classes ended last week, remember?"

"Clearly not," he retorted dryly, eliciting another round of laughter from her. "Then what are you up to?"

"Enjoying the start of summer," she said brightly. "I'm going to Blackpool with some friends this weekend."

"Male friends?" he asked apprehensively.

"No, I'm still steering clear of boys," Gina said. Her tone was playful but he could hear an undercurrent of something darker beneath it that caused a sharp pain in his chest. "Your gender is more trouble than they're worth."

"We aren't all like that," he said somberly.

"I know," Gina said. "I'm just not quite ready yet. Someday, but not know." Her voice lightened and she added, "Don't pretend you're not glad I'm not dating."

William laughed. "You caught me," he said. "I'm fine not having to worry about you a while longer. At least wait until I'm back in the country again."

"When'll that be?" she asked.

"Not sure yet," he admitted. "I thought I was only going to be here a week or so, but I just picked up a book from a New York based author so I'm going to stay here a while longer to work on it."

"Another?" Gina asked in surprise. "Haven't you already taken on two?"

"Three," he said. "But I couldn't pass this book up, Gi, it's amazing. It could be a bestseller, really put Pemberley on the map."

"Wow I haven't heard you this excited about a book in ages," she said. "It must be something special. Especially for you to stick around and work with the author personally. Cute?"

William's mind filled with images of soulful brown eyes, a shadow of scruff, and a lean body. He felt immediately hot under the collar and was grateful she couldn't see the colour that had flooded his face. "_He_," he said, emphasising the pronoun, "is not handsome enough to tempt me."

Gina laughed. "Point taken. But it wouldn't kill you to work less and meet someone."

"You sound like Charles," William said, only just resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Good, so he agrees," Gina said. "We're just worried about you. You work too much."

"Because I enjoy my work," he said.

"I know, and that's great, it's just - " Gina trailed off and William braced himself. "You haven't dated since secondary school. I understand that in uni you were busy raising me, and I appreciate that. And then with everything that happened... But I'm all grown up now, Will. It's time to stop taking care of me and start taking care of yourself. Don't you get lonely?"

William refused to acknowledge the dull aching in his chest at her words. "I have you and Charles, what more do I need?"

"Love, romance, passion?" Gina suggested. "You're almost thirty. Don't you want to get married some day? Start a family?"

The pain and longing in William's heart doubled, before it was promptly crushed by the practical side of him. There were no such things as happily ever afters for people like him. The only thing that came from trying was scandal and disappointment. He wasn't willing to put himself, or his family name, through that on a whim and a chance. "Some day, maybe," he said simply. "But not now."

The intentional repetition of her own words back at her made Gina pause, and she hummed in understanding. "Alright, I'll stop badgering you," she said. "Just think about it, Will. I just want you to be happy. I love you."

"Love you too, Gi," he said fondly. Nothing in the world softened him the way his little sister could. Clearing his throat against the sudden swell of emotion, he said, "So how were exams?"

"Exhausting," Gina moaned dramatically. As she prattled on about studying and her professors at Cambridge, William settled down on the end of his bed to listen. Yes, he had his little sister and his best friend, and he was blessed with their love. That would have to do.


	7. A First Collaboration

**Chapter Seven - A First Collaboration**

Clutching his messenger bag against his hip, Elijah jogged up the steps from the subway platform into downtown Manhattan. The pavements were crowded with the Wednesday midmorning rush, the familiar hum of voices and cars making a comforting backdrop to his world and easing his nerves slightly. Elijah took a steadying breath before starting off down the road.

The conversation he'd had with Charlotte yesterday was still running through his head.

_"Got plans tomorrow?" she asked._

_"Just work, why?"_

_"Any chance you can get the day off?" Charlotte asked. "Your new editor wants to meet with you."_

The moment he'd hung up the phone with her, Elijah had promptly called into work and taken the day off work. He had spent the rest of the evening fussing around the house in a panic, anxious about meeting his new editor. By the time Jane had gotten home from her late class at the Y, the entire flat had been cleaned from top to bottom. He had barely slept last night, and had been awake with the sunrise in anticipation of the meeting.

Conscious of the thought that he was making a first impression on the person who had chosen to publish his book, Elijah had dressed and groomed meticulously. He had spent a good twenty minutes trimming his facial hair, giving the thin mustache and beard a just grown, casual style. Dressed in his favourite jeans, with pale blue plaid shirtsleeves and a charcoal tie beneath his gray jacket, he managed to look professional without looking like he was trying too hard.

Elijah counted the numbers on the buildings as he passed. He checked his watch, his heart jumping into his throat when he realised that he only had ten minutes to get there. The last thing he wanted to do was be late for his first meeting with his publisher. Picking up his pace, he crossed the street, dodging between cabs, and started scouring the buildings on the next block.

Number 3287 came up on him abruptly and Elijah stopped in the middle of the pavement, tilting his head back to look up the face of the building. It was a towering edifice of stone and wood amid the steel and glass, a bit of old New York still clinging on although it had clearly been restored recently. A swiveling glass and wood door led into a cavernous lobby with parquet floors and gold embellishments.

Hugging his messenger bag closer to his side, Elijah walked up to the large designator sign that hung opposite the doors. According to the white typeface, Pemberley Publishing occupied the top two floors of the building. Elijah pressed the up arrow next to the lift and waited. The shaft doors opened with a cheery ding and he stepped inside the little box, followed immediately by a large man in a business suit.

The pair rode in silence up fourteen floors, where the suited man got out with a faint tip of his head to acknowledge Elijah's presence. The doors glided shut and the lift continued upward. Elijah leaned against the back wall, one hand drumming a staccato rhythm against his leather bag while he watched the little light tick its way up through the numbers above the door.

Finally the circle labelled forty-four lit up and the lift ground to a halt. Elijah straightened up and smoothed down the front of his jacket anxiously. It took a second and then the doors slid open to reveal a polished mahogany office area. The room was filled with cubicles, and about ten people sat at the desks, working away at their computers or pouring over pages of print. A receptionist sat at a desk facing the lifts, and she looked up from her computer when he stepped out.

"Welcome to Pemberley Publishing," she said brightly. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi, my name's Elijah Bennet," he said, suddenly uncertain. One of the people in the room was the one, the person who had chosen his book when everyone else had rejected him. "I'm supposed to be meeting with my editor today. I think my agent said Mrs. Reynolds."

"Oh yes," the receptionist said. "You'll need to go up one more floor."

"Oh, right, okay," Elijah said. "Thanks." He slipped back into the lift and pressed the next button. His mind was racing as it shot up to the next floor. In most businesses the highest floor was designated for the owners and managers and other higher ups. Was Pemberley just a strange business? Or was he meeting with someone higher than an editor? And why?

The doors opened to the forty-fifth floor and he was met with another set of cubicles. This room was smaller than the last, a large wall in the back sectioning off an office. When he stepped out of the lift an older woman from a desk right in front of the office stood and walked across the room to him. "Mr. Bennet?" she asked curiously.

"Elijah, please," he said. "Are you Mrs. Reynolds?"

"Patricia. A pleasure to meet you," she said, offering her hand. "I read your book, it's absolutely fantastic."

"Thank you," he said, fighting against the blush that was creeping up the back of his neck. "And thank you for accepting it. I really was starting to lose hope before you called."

"Oh I'm not your editor," Patricia said. "I'm just an assistant editor. I just passed your book along to the boss, he's the one who chose it. Speaking of," she glanced at her watch, "Come along, we should get you back there. He has a tight schedule and he doesn't appreciate tardiness."

Confused, Elijah followed her back to the office door. Mrs. Reynolds knocked twice on the door and then opened it. She led the way in and addressed the chair behind the desk, which was turned toward the back wall, which was comprised entirely of windows. The room was beautiful, with its carved mahogany desk and enormous shelves built into the walls that housed books of every era. Elijah's fingers itched with the desire to browse the shelves and see what treasures lay there.

"Elijah Bennet is here to see you, sir," Mrs. Reynolds announced.

"Thank you," a cool, British voice responded. Elijah's stomach lurched in recognition just as the chair twisted around to reveal it's occupant. William Darcy stood and nodded briefly to Mrs. Reynolds, who smiled and left the office, shutting the door behind her. "Mr. Bennet," he greeted.

"Mr. Darcy," Elijah said in surprise. William Darcy was dressed in blue shirtsleeves, just tight enough to reveal his broad shoulders and chest. They were rolled up to the elbows, showing off strong forearms, and the bold colour made his eyes all the brighter. He wore black trousers and shoes, and perched on his nose were a pair of black-framed glasses. Elijah's heart did a double beat; he'd always had a weakness for guys in glasses.

"You seem surprised to see me," Darcy noted.

"I wasn't aware that you were the one who bought my book," Elijah said. His mind went back to the night of the Netherfield ball, and the conversation he'd overheard. _It was decent enough._ Elijah felt his hackles rise indignantly and it took everything he had not to let his anger show on his face.

"Perhaps you should've done more research into the company," Darcy suggested, his lips twisting up just slightly at the corners in a condescending smirk. Elijah bit his tongue to stop himself from responding sharply. "Hopefully this arrangement is still to your liking."

_Decent enough._ Elijah was half tempted to tell William Darcy exactly where he could stick his arrangement, but the practical side of him stopped the words before they reached his tongue. If he refused this offer, what were the odds that he'd get another chance? After all of the rejection letters he'd gotten, did he want to risk his book never being published just because his editor was a vile, patronising jerk?

"Works fine for me," Elijah said, forcing on a cheerful expression. He could play nice. If he was lucky, they'd only have to meet in person a few times. Most editors worked purely through email nowadays anyway. He'd be civil while they fine-tuned the details of his story and then he'd never have to deal with William Darcy again. Next book he could find another editor. Charlotte had assured him it was always easier once one was an established author.

"Excellent," Darcy said. He gestured at the seat on the other side of the desk as he dropped back down into his own chair. "I thought we could use this first meeting to set up a basic foundation. Get to know each other a little better since we'll be working together over the next few months, and establish what we're both expecting from this."

Elijah nodded silently, trying very hard not to be charmed by Darcy's accent. It wasn't your typical London accent, slightly rougher and richer. Shame such a nice package housed a cold soul.

Darcy picked up a manuscript from the pile on his desk and tapped a finger against the top page. "It really is a very good book," he said, staring across the desk to fix Elijah with a piercing ice blue gaze.

_Decent enough._ "Thank you," Elijah said. He couldn't help but wonder what Darcy thought he was playing at. One minute his book was merely decent, and the next he was saying that it was good. Clearly he was someone important in the company, having his own fancy office in the building. Why would someone so high up in the company take on his _decent enough_ novel?

"I genuinely expect that this book could make it onto the bestsellers' charts," Darcy continued. "It has some rough patches but overall it's a very good story. After all, I only take on the very best."

Elijah smirked at the smarmy comment. Could he be any more full of himself? "Alright then, let's talk about those rough patches," he said, setting his bag down next to his chair. Darcy nodded and opened up the manuscript to the first page, scanning over his notes in the margins. "I noted down a few inconsistencies with your protagonist's motivations here..."

They spent the next hour glossing over all of the parts that Darcy felt needed some work. For the most part, Elijah grudgingly had to admit that he made good points. The guy might be insufferable - and the curt, forward way that he laid down his expectations about the changes but Elijah on the defensive - but he at least knew what he was doing. There were a few parts where Elijah firmly put down his foot, resistant to the changes that Darcy had suggested, but overall the changes would serve as considerable improvements.

"I'll send a complete copy of all my recommendations through to your agent," Darcy said when they had finished talking over the climax of the novel. "You have two months to make the changes and then resubmit your manuscript."

Elijah cringed. That many revisions and three whole sections that needed rewriting in only two months? "How long does this whole process usually take?" he asked curiously.

"Depending on how well your revisions go," Darcy said, giving him a significant look, "the editing process takes about six months. Then things move on to marketing and design, and then production. All in all, the whole process lasts about a year. If everything works out according to plan, this book will be on shelves next summer."

Letting out a heavy breath, Elijah slumped back in the chair. One year. Twelve short months and his book would be sitting on the shelves at the bookstores and libraries. Just one more year and he'd be a published author. It was finally sinking in that this was real, he'd actually done it. He couldn't stop the ecstatic grin that broke out across his face at the thought.

"Would you care to join me for lunch?"

The out-of-the-blue question startled Elijah from his fantasies and he blinked across the desk at Darcy in surprise. "Pardon?" he asked, sure he'd heard wrong.

"I was planning on taking my lunch as soon as our meeting was over," Darcy said, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the edge of his desk. "I was wondering if you'd care to join me. We could discuss any other questions you might have."

Elijah fought back a frown. What exactly did this guy think he was doing? Was this some ploy to find more reasons to criticise Elijah? Either way, he wasn't looking to spend any more time with Darcy than he absolutely had to. He checked his watch and shook his head. "No thank you," he said. "I only took the first half of the day off from work, so I've really got to be going or I'll be late."

Darcy nodded, standing up and pushing the sleeves of his shirt up above his elbows again. "Thank you for taking time to come in and meet with me," he said. "I'll pass that information along to your agent."

"Thanks for making time for me," Elijah said. When Darcy offered a hand, he shook it, determinedly ignoring the leap of his stomach at the warm grip.

"I'll contact your agent to set up another time to meet," Darcy said, burrowing his hands in his pockets. "Good day, Mr. Bennet."

"Good bye, Darcy," Elijah said and then slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. He slipped back out of the office and smiled kindly at Patricia Reynolds before making his way to the lift. His mind was humming as he rode down to the ground floor. One year. One more year.

There was a grin on his face as he stepped out into the busy New York traffic.


	8. Reflection

**Chapter Eight - Reflection**

William leaned back in his office chair, unable to focus on his work. He was supposed to be approving the budgets for the coming term but the numbers kept blurring together in front of his eyes. All he could think about was the fact that in a matter of minutes, he'd be meeting with Elijah Bennet.

Tossing down his pen in frustration, William turned his back on the desk and looked out the window at the New York skyline. From his office he had a brilliant view of upper Manhattan, the rise and fall of the steel buildings like a frozen ocean wave cascading across the city. It was so different from home, and even from his London office, but New York had its own charms and he had grown rather fond of it.

Of course at the moment everything about the city made him think of one particular brown-eyed man and it was making it incredibly difficult to work on anything. William had no idea what was wrong with him. He'd never gotten so hung up on anyone before, had never even been able to fake this strong of an infatuation with any of the women he'd dated in the past when he had been trying to fight the truth of his situation. It seemed like he had not stopped thinking about Elijah Bennet since that moment when their eyes had first met at Charles' event.

The whole thing was completely illogical. He barely knew the man at all, knew little more than what he could see physically. Apart from that, all that he understood about Elijah Bennet came from assumptions made by reading his manuscript. It was hardly basis enough for the sort of feelings he had for the other man. So why was he so incredibly hung up on him?

Something needed to be done about this. He couldn't go on this way. He had a business to run and a reputation to protect. William Darcy was a grown man, not a silly schoolgirl with a crush. He had to pull himself together. For all his basic charms, Elijah Bennet was not perfect. If he accomplished anything in this first meeting with the writer, it would be to prove that fact to himself. Elijah Bennet had faults and William was determined to find them all.

A light tap on the door stirred him from his thoughts, and then Mrs. Reynolds said, "Elijah Bennet is here to see you, sir."

_Here we go,_ William thought and took a steadying breath. "Thank you," he responded and then turned to face the new arrivals. His eyes flicked passed his assistant editor and his heart leapt in his chest. Elijah was standing there, somehow managing to look both professional and incredibly casual. His hair was loose and slightly mussed by the wind and his dark eyes widened when they fell on William. He looked beautifully perplexed and William felt his stomach twist.

The meeting went even better than he had expected. William found himself in a teasing mood, and even poked fun at Elijah for not realising that it was he who had taken on the manuscript. It wasn't like he properly blamed him for being surprised. No new author would expect to find themselves working with the head of the company, especially one as modest as Elijah.

After that they sat down and William couldn't stop himself from admitting how much he loved the book. Elijah seemed shocked by that, although he tried to hide it, which only reaffirmed William's belief that the man was too humble for his own good. Elijah wasted no time at all, wanting to get straight to work, and William was only too happy to oblige.

Elijah proved himself to be incredibly sharp and fastidious. He took criticism much better than the majority of experienced authors that William had worked with, nodding to acknowledge the advice he was given. When he didn't understand, he asked questions, probing in and making sure that he knew why and how things needed to be changed. There were a few places where he stubbornly refused to budge but he wasn't rude or obstinate about it, explaining the precise reasons things needed to stay the way they were.

The hours flew by as they combed over every major spot of the novel that had needed touching up. William was stunned when he realised they had reached the end of the book and a quick glance at his watch told him that three hours had already passed. A perpetually punctual man, he never usually lost track of the time. Elijah Bennet was doing dangerous things to his head. He leaned back in his chair and quickly walked through the final procedures and deadlines.

Elijah asked the question that all first time authors wanted to know: how long? At least in that way he had been predictable. William was getting a little frustrated by the way Elijah continued to surprise him at every turn.

"Depending on how well your revisions go," he paused significantly, thinking that with Elijah's determination and skill, they would likely get the revisions done in fewer drafts than normal, "the editing process takes about six months. Then things move on to marketing and design, and then production. All in all, the whole process lasts about a year. If everything works out according to plan, this book will be on shelves next summer."

Elijah sighed heavily and William braced himself for the questions. It happened every time that a first time author was given a timeline for their book. Newcomers never understood just how long of a process publishing a book really was when it came to conventional publishing. They expected it would take just a short while and that they'd be seeing their name on bookshelves in a matter of weeks.

Then the most beautiful smile William had ever seen spread across Elijah's lips. It was like the sun had lit up behind his face, casting a soft glow over his features. His eyes crinkled up at the corners and a breathless laugh escaped him.

"Would you care to join me for lunch?"

The words slipped out of his mouth before William could stop them. He had been so caught up in the wonder on Elijah's face that his mind had immediately seized onto the first opportunity to spend more time with him that he could find. Elijah seemed just as surprised by the question as he had been. William hastily tried to play it off as a business proposal but Elijah turned him down, saying that he had to get back to work.

They said their goodbyes, and Elijah's hand was warm and soft in his own. William felt a compulsive desire to touch him more, to bury his hands in Elijah's mussed brown hair or trace the lean outline of his body. Trying to control himself, William stuck his hands into the pockets of his slacks to stop him from doing something stupid.

The moment the office door closed behind Elijah, William slumped back into his chair heavily. What was wrong with him? The whole purpose of meeting with Elijah had been to find reasons to stop his infatuation, and instead all that he'd done was make it worse. His every fault was more than evened out by his charming personality and intellect.

A tap at the door made him look up and he saw Mrs. Reynolds standing in the doorframe. "Everything went well?" she asked curiously.

"Yes, it was quite productive," he said.

"That Elijah Bennet, he's a rather charming man, isn't he?" Mrs. Reynolds asked. "So sweet and friendly. And rather handsome, too."

"He seems to be a good man," William agreed. "As for his looks, I am not a good judge." Mrs. Reynolds gave him a pointed look but William remained unflinching even as his mind raced with images of scruff and gentle brown eyes with a fiery spark. Sometimes he wondered if Mrs. Reynolds didn't already know his secret despite the fact that he'd never told anyone. The older woman had been working with him since he had begun Pemberley Publishing right out of university, helping him to get the business off the ground, and she treated him more like a son than an employer. She never came right out and said anything, but when she gave him looks like that or made comments about certain men, he somehow thought she might know.

"Of course," she said. "Anyway, I was just coming to tell you that I'm going to take my lunch break. Would you like for me to pick something up for you as well while I'm out?"

"That would be wonderful, thank you," he said, bestowing a rare smile on the woman. Mrs. Reynolds nodded and closed the door behind her as she left.

William swiveled his chair to face the window again and looked out at the towering steel buildings. This was getting ridiculous. It was just a stupid infatuation, it would go away as quickly as it came. All he needed was a little time and space, and this silly crush would fade. He had two months before Elijah's revisions were due and no reason to see him again before then. That was plenty of time to clear his head.

* * *

The music swept out to greet him as Elijah held open the door of one of his favourite local clubs, a cosy little place called Deja Vu on a corner lot in Astoria. It had a warm, Mediterranean feel with an excellent wine selection and great music. They had arrived there early enough that it wasn't overly crowded yet and there were still a few empty tables scattered around the room. Standing just inside of the doorway, Elijah scanned the room until he finally spotted Charlotte waving to them from a table near the corner.

"Go sit down, I'll get our drinks," Elijah said. As Jane wandered off, he made his way to the bar and ordered their usual drinks. The bartender poured them and Elijah paid, accepting the two glasses. He wove his way expertly through the tables and clusters of people until he reached the table where the girls sat.

"There's my superstar!" Charlotte cheered in greeting. As soon as he'd set the drinks down she had jumped up and thrown her arms around him, kissing his cheek. Judging by her behaviour, that was not her first martini; the ever collected woman was rarely so touchy-feely. Elijah slipped into one of the vacant chairs and Charlotte eagerly flagged down a passing waiter. "Round of shots here, please," she said. "We're celebrating."

"Right on it," the waiter said, grinning and eyeing her interestedly. It was hard to blame him; with her red hair wild and loose, and a tight-fitting t-shirt that showed off her copious curves, Charlotte cut a rather impressive figure.

"So, Eli," Charlotte said as she took her seat again. "You have to tell us all about how it went today?"

"Yeah," Jane said eagerly, looking up from stirring her daiquiri. "Did you meet your editor?"

Elijah laughed, taking a quick sip of his rum and coke. "You could have warned me who it was," he said, shooting a significant glance at Charlotte.

"Who?" she asked, clearly perplexed. "The assistant editor didn't give me a name, just told me to have you ask for her and she'd send you through. Why? You know them?"

"We all do," Elijah said. "My editor is William Darcy."

Charlotte nearly knocked over her drink while Jane's doe eyes got impossibly wider. "Charlie's best friend Darcy?" his sister asked in surprise.

"Wait, seriously?" Charlotte asked, mopping up the drink that had splashed over with a paper napkin. "I mean, I knew he owned the company, but I didn't think he actually did any real editing."

"Well apparently he does because that's who I had my meeting with this morning," Elijah said. "God, of all the editors in the world to finally pick up my book, why did it have to be him?"

Jane squeezed my wrist reassuringly. "Still, this might be a good thing," she said. "Owner of the business, he must be really good at what he does."

Elijah grudgingly nodded. "Well I mean, sure he seems to know what he's doing," he said. "He gave me some good advice, but his tone when he gave it. Rude and judgemental, and so condescending. He treats me like I'm stupid. And when he told me to have my revisions in, he gave me this look like he doesn't think I'll be able to get them all done in time."

"Well at least you don't have to deal with him much," Charlotte said. "His assistant emailed along the notes for the revisions. Now you only have to talk to him through email until the next time your revisions are do. And if you want, you can pass everything along through me so I can be an intermediary for you."

"Thanks, Char," Elijah said gratefully. "That'd be great. I'm afraid if I have to deal with him much, I'll end up saying something stupid and he'll cancel the contract."

The waiter returned, setting down a tray of shot glasses full of amber liquid. "Ooh yay," Charlotte said, passing the glasses out to each of them. "Alright, enough of the drama. Let's celebrate our boy's victory."

"It's both of our's victory," Elijah said.

Jane smiled as she lifted her glass in a toast. "To Elijah!"

"To _Chaos in a Bottle_," Elijah said, tapping his glass against hers.

Charlotte was beaming as she lifted her glass as well. "To the next New York Times Bestseller." They all tipped back their shots, and Elijah hummed as the liquid burnt a warm trail down his throat. The glasses clinked loudly as they set them down.

"So Jane," Charlotte said, leaning forward onto the table. Bright pink patches had appeared on her cheeks and she trailed a finger around the rim of her martini glass. "Eli tells me you went out with Mr. Bingley. How'd that go?"

As Jane launched into telling Charlotte all about her date with Charlie, Elijah settled back in his seat and sipped his drink. He was comfortable and enjoying time with his best friends. He was well on his way to achieving his dreams, and he wouldn't have to deal with Darcy again for at least another two months.

Things were good.


	9. An Unexpected Guest

**Chapter Nine - An Unexpected Guest**

Elijah sorted through the contents of his duffel bag, trying to decide if there was anything else that he needed for their weekend in the Hamptons. It was hard to know what to expect so he wanted to be prepared for everything, but he didn't want to overpack either. After removing and then replacing the same pair of jeans three times, he finally declared it good enough and zipped the bag shut. He slung the duffel over his shoulder, grabbed his trusty messenger bag, and then crossed the hall to Jane's room.

Jane seemed to be in an even worse state than Elijah was; half the contents of her closet were laid out on the bed and she was staring them down, obviously trying to decide which ones to take. When she spotted him in the doorway her face brightened up. "Help?" she asked, and her tone was so pathetic he couldn't stop the laugh that slipped out. "It's not funny," she said but her lips had turned up. "I don't know what I should take. This dress is nice, but then so is this skirt, and I just don't know what to do."

"Relax, first of all," Elijah said, placing steadying hands on Jane's shoulders. Jane nodded and took a deep breath, and then they went through her clothes together. Twenty minutes later Jane's things were packed into a little rolling suitcase and they locked up their flat.

In the cramped lot behind the deli - which was really nothing more than three parking stalls and a couple rubbish bins - they loaded their things into the back of Jane's battered old Volkswagen. The red Beetle was one of Jane's prized possessions, bought with cash in high school. She had worked every weekend for two years at the nearby grocery store to afford it. They didn't have much use for it in the city where they used public transit for everything, so it usually only got out for their weekly trips to their parents' house.

Elijah folded himself down into the passenger side, the seat all the way back to accommodate his long legs, while Jane jumped in on the other side. The sounds of a local top forties station filled the car as she steered them out onto the road.

Jane was a cautious and courteous driver, not at all suited for the Darwinian "survival of the fittest" mentality favoured by most New York drivers. While Elijah cussed out a sedan for cutting them off getting on the freeway, Jaane made excuses for him, insisting that he must've been in a hurry and that she was probably in his blind spot.

Apart from that, though, Elijah enjoyed riding along with his elder sister. They listened to similar music - both of them became karaoke stars inside the safety of the Beetle, singing at the top of their lungs - and the conversation was good. It was certainly preferable to his mother's crazy driving or Lydia's propensity for blasting screechy teeny bop music. He generally preferred to drive alone, but on a long trip like this it was a welcome relief to have someone to help pass the time.

The nearly three hour drive across Long Island went by quicker than he had expected, despite the congested, after work traffic, and it was still sunny when they reached the posh buildings and gated communities of Southampton. It was hard not to gape at the homes as they passed; each of them could easily have contained his childhood home six or seven times over, and the yards were the size of full city blocks.

The GPS on Jane's phone took them onto a road that ran near the beach, where the row of mansions each had a private stretch of sand behind them. They drove six more miles and then the phone beeped loudly, signalling that they had reached their stop. Jane slowed the car in front of a sweeping drive as she double-checked the address against the one Charlie had texted her. "This is it," she said, just a bit breathlessly as she turned into the drive.

The mansion at the end of the cobbled drive was an enormous masterpiece of grey brick and white trim, with wide windows that let sunlight into every room. A porch wrapped around the entire house, shaded by colonnades, and twin red brick chimneys sprouted from the rooftop. Rose gardens bloomed below the front windows and the full acre of front lawn was meticulously groomed. It looked like something out of a painting.

"He lives here?" Elijah asked in awe. Jane merely nodded as they cruised up to the house. There was a row of cars parked along the south side of the driveway and Jane pulled up at the end, next to a glistening silver BMW. The old Beetle couldn't have looked more out of place in the line of sports and luxury cars.

Neither of them knew what to say, still too stunned by the grandeur in front of them, so they unpacked their bags in silence. "Ready?" Elijah asked. Jane offered him a shaky smile and nodded. They stepped up onto the front step and Jane pressed the doorbell. The chimes rang away deep in the house. "How big is this place?" Elijah muttered under his breath.

It only took a few minutes before the front door opened and Charlie beamed at them. It was the first time Elijah had seen him dressed casually and he had to admit the man pulled it off; in a printed gray v-necked t-shirt and jeans, with his hair slightly curlier and looser than usual, he looked like a model for American Eagle.

"Jane, Elijah, I'm glad you made it," he said, opening the door wider to let them in. He stepped forward and took the handle of Jane's bag, ushering them both in ahead of him. "I was just about to call and make sure you were alright."

"We ran into traffic on the 495," Jane explained as they stepped into the foyer. Elijah had to consciously focus on not letting his jaw drop. The main hall was cavernous, with polished wood floors and an ornate spiral staircase off to the side. On either side were sitting rooms, decorated with plush furniture in shades of blue and green.

"Well we were just about to start supper," Charlie said. "Have you eaten yet?" Both of them shook their heads. "Well then why don't I show you to your rooms and you can freshen up and join us."

"That sounds lovely," Jane said. Elijah smiled at the sight of her; any of the nerves that she'd had when they arrived seemed to have evaporated the moment she laid eyes on Charlie.

"Need a hand with your bags, Elijah? No. Alright then, this way," Charlie said. He slipped an arm around Jane's waist and led the way toward the spiral stairs. The next floor above the hall was an open O, forming a natural balcony all the way around. Halls led down either side, lined with doors. Charlie led them down the hall to the left and stopped in front of the third door.

"This room is for you, Jane," he said, setting down her suitcase and pushing the door open. The room beyond was large and immaculate, with furniture in an array of peach and oranges. Charlie walked to the very next door and opened it. "And this room is yours, Elijah."

Elijah stepped into the room and nearly staggered in shock. The room was larger than the entire main room of their flat, with a bed so big and soft looking he had a childish urge to throw himself onto it. Everything matched, a pale blue sea theme that echoed throughout all of the furniture. There was a door that led to an en suite bathroom he couldn't wait to explore. What really drew his attention though was the window. Thrown open to let in a warm salty breeze, the expansive window gave a breathtaking view of the ocean.

"This place is amazing, Charlie," Elijah admitted.

Charlie smiled, pleased. "I'm glad you like it," he said. "The dining room is downstairs, first door on the right, when you're ready." With that he turned and left, and Elijah could hear him giving the same directions to Jane at the next room.

Setting his bags down at the foot of the bed, Elijah walked into the bathroom to check his appearance. The room was to scale with the rest of the house, meaning it was far bigger than anything he was used to. The square bathtub could easily have sat three people comfortably, and there was a stand-alone shower on the other side of the room. The countertop was gleaming granite beneath a mirror framed in wood with real seashells at each corner.

"Unreal," Elijah muttered aloud at the grandeur. Everything was large and expensive, but somehow not disgustingly so. Normally Elijah was turned off by people who flaunted their wealth in others faces, having lived paycheck to meagre paycheck nearly his entire life, but this place didn't feel that way. Everything had a quality of having been chosen not for its price tag but for its purpose.

Also, the fact that Charlie had gone to such efforts in making his guests' rooms so lavish and comfortable said a lot about his character.

Elijah stepped up to the mirror and took in his appearance. His olive green button-down, rolled up at the elbows, and jeans were only slightly wrinkled from the long car ride. Although he'd shaved that morning, there was already a faint sprouting of light brown hair along his jawline. His hair was sticking up slightly more in the front than he would have liked but with a little water from the sink tap he smoothed it out.

Feeling as presentable as he could get after spending three hours in the car, he shut the bedroom door behind him and walked to the next one. He tapped twice on the white wood with his knuckle. "Jane?"

"Just a sec," she called back. A moment later she opened the door with one hand, brushing her hair with the other. She had re-applied her make-up and traded her trainers for her new metallic gladiator sandals - which she refused to wear while driving in case they got caught on the pedals. They looked great paired with her royal blue dress, accented by a single gold bracelet. "Do I look okay?" she asked, setting aside her brush.

"You look beautiful," Elijah said, grinning. Jane smiled gratefully and set her brush down on the bedside table. "You ready for dinner?"

"Ready," Jane agreed, slipping out of the room. They walked side-by-side down the spiral stairs and turned into the open door on the right hand side. Despite the size of the house, Elijah was surprised by the cosy, intimate nature of the dining room. Although it was high-ceilinged, and open french doors gave the room an open, airy feeling, the table wasn't the grand banquet table he was expecting. Instead a simple cedar table was set, surrounded by matching blue cushioned chairs. The wall opposite was decorated with an abstract arrangement of framed photographs around a sleek square mirror.

The moment they'd entered the room, four pairs of eyes swiveled to fix on them. Charlie grinned and hurried over to usher them into the room. "Jane, Elijah, you both know my sister Caroline," he said, gesturing to where the thin blonde stood next to a couple. Caroline smiled at them. "And this is my older sister Louisa," he went on, gesturing to the other woman. "And her husband, Brian."

The resemblance between Louisa and Caroline was immediately obvious. They were both petite and a shade of blonde that wasn't entirely natural, although Louisa lacked her sister's thin hips and shoulders. Also as sharp contrast, Caroline embodied her pale skin while Louisa was the peculiar shade of bronze only achieved through extensive fake tanning.

Brian was an altogether uninspiring man, completely nondescript and ordinary in every way. Dressed in white shirtsleeves and black slacks, he barely even glanced up from his phone to tip his head at them in greeting before going back to what he was doing.

"And these," Charlie said, setting a hand on Elijah's shoulder and putting a hand on the small of Jane's back, "are Jane and Elijah Bennet."

"It's so nice to meet you," Jane said, stepping forward and offering her hand to Louisa. "Charlie's told me all about you."

"Good things, I hope," Louisa said with a simpering laugh. "I must admit, I was really curious to meet you after Charlie told us he was inviting friends to stay the weekend. He's been raving about you since I showed up, I almost feel as if I know you already. Charlie says you're an art teacher. How did you get into that?"

"It's what I've always wanted to do," Jane said. "In school I majored in Child Psychology with a minor in Art. I've always felt art has healing powers, and I wanted to use that to help troubled kids."

"What school do you work at?" Louisa asked.

"I actually work at the YMCA," Jane said.

"How charitable," Louisa said. Elijah frowned at the slightly judgemental tone, but if Jane noticed it she didn't react. "Still, with a degree like that couldn't you find work in a school or academy?"

"Those kids already have people to help them," Jane said. "I wanted to help kids who need someone, who don't have anyone else. Those are the kids who need the power of art the most." Charlie beamed at her proudly. "And you, Charlie said you work at Saks Fifth Avenue. That must be so exciting."

Louisa puffed up eagerly and Elijah got the distinct impression that she loved talking about herself. "Yes, I'm a buyer for their cosmetics department. It's not so exciting as Charlie or Caroline's work, but I do get to travel to a lot of shows and I've met some of our very high end clientele."

"That's wonderful," Jane said. "You'll have to give me some advice on makeup, I'm not very experienced."

"Well you hardly need it, do you, dear?" Louisa said. "Still, I think I could help. Just a little bit here and there." Louisa turned her pale blue eyes on Elijah, eyeing him up and down curiously. "What about you? Elijah, was it? What do you do?"

"I'm a writer," Elijah said, feeling a renewed sense of pride as the words left his lips. "A novelist, actually."

"Really?" Louisa asked. "Anything I'd know of?"

"Not yet," he admitted. "My first book is still in the publication process."

"Good for you," Louisa said and then, clearly losing interest, turned to Charlie. "Are we going to have dinner some time tonight?"

"Yes, we're just waiting on - Oh, here he comes," Charlie said, glancing out of the doorway to the staircase. Elijah looked over to see who else was joining them and felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

He should've seen this coming. After all, they were best friends, so it was only natural that he would be here. Still, nothing in the world could have prepared him for the sight of William Darcy strolling into the dining room. Like Charlie, he was dressed casually; designer, dark-washed jeans that hugged his thighs and a snug white t-shirt. A faint smattering of dark chest hair was visible above the v-neck collar of the shirt.

"My apologies," Darcy said, pulling off his dark-frame glasses and hanging them on the collar of his shirt. "I was on an important business call that could not be avoided. I did not mean to keep you all waiting."

"No worries, Darce," Charlie said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just gave everyone a chance to get acquainted. Everyone, if you'd like to sit." They all moved to the table and Elijah found himself sitting between Jane and Brian, who was still tapping away on his phone. When Elijah looked up it was to find that Darcy had taken the seat directly across from him. Their eyes locked for a brief second and then Elijah hastily looked away, stomach churning.

It was going to be a _long_ weekend.


	10. Sparks Fly Up

AN: So I think I underestimated what a long endeavour this story is going to be. I thought this would be a quick and easy re-write. This is chapter ten of the story and I've only just made it through chapter eight of P&P. At this rate, this story is looking like it's going to be around fifty chapters. AH! Hope you're all in it for the long haul.

Also sorry for the sporadic updates. I'm posting as I finish them, but I'm also working full-time and attending two schools simultaneously, as well as writing two other projects and doing revisions on my original novel to get it ready for publication. Needless to say, I'm a little busy. So if a week or so goes without update, I apologise in advance but I'm doing my best.

Thanks again for all of you who have read and reviewed and subscribed (almost 40 followers?!). It's a much better reception than I was expecting and I'm so grateful to you all for your kind words and support.

* * *

**Chapter Ten - Sparks Fly Up**

William slid into the seat across the table from Elijah, his heart hammering in his chest. He had known that the other man would be there. Charles had told him that he'd invited Jane and her brother to spend the weekend with them, but somehow it had still shaken him to his core when he'd walked into the dining room to see Elijah Bennet standing there.

So much for having time alone to get over his feelings.

As the rest of them settled down at the dining table, Charles bustled back and forth from the kitchen, serving everyone himself. It was an odd quirk of his that he insisted on, and Will had learned long ago not to bother arguing with him. After Charles had set the trays of baked chicken and fresh salad in front of everyone, he took his seat at the head of the table.

Lifting his wineglass, Charles said loudly, "To family, to friends, to food and fun. Cheers."

"Cheers," several of the others echoed, raising their own glasses as well. There was a lull as everyone turned their attention to their dinners, tasting the warm meal eagerly.

"Did you make this, Charlie?" Elijah asked curiously.

"With some help from Caroline and Will," Charles said, ever the modest one.

"It's fantastic," Elijah said and offered the other man a warm smile. "I'm impressed. I can't cook worth a damn. I'd starve to death if it weren't for Jane."

Jane gave him an amused look while Charles laughed. "My mother raised me to in the kitchen, insisted that I had better learn because it wasn't the job of a woman to feed her man all the time. And after so many years on my own, I'm rather glad too or I would live off of take-out."

"Well Elijah might not be much of a cook, but he is an excellent baker," Jane said, nudging her brother's arm affectionately. William found his mind suddenly filled with images of Elijah, streaks of flour caught on his skin, and he looked down at his dinner to avoid looking at the other man.

"Will," Caroline spoke up suddenly, drawing his attention. "How is Gina doing? She'll be finished with school for the year, won't she?"

"She is well," William said. "Her classes ended well and she is enjoying some well-deserved time away."

"That's good," Caroline said. "I do miss her so much, she's such a sweet girl. And so talented. I've never met someone with quite so many skills as her."

William caught Elijah's confused expression out of the corner of his eyes and fought the urge to smile at the narrow ridge it formed between his brows. "Gina is my younger sister," he supplied to the unasked question. "She is currently attending university in Cambridge, studying music." What looked like surprise flickered across Elijah's face before he nodded.

"She studies music, but she's gifted at so many things," Caroline ploughed on from her spot beside William. "Painting, singing, piano, dancing, even writing."

"It's amazing how talented some artists are," Charles said. "How they find the time to cultivate so many skills. I would be grateful just to have one of those skills."

"You have plenty of skills, Charlie," Louisa said. "Skills that are practical and useful in society."

"Are you saying that arts are not useful in society?" Elijah asked. His tone was pleasant enough but when William looked across at him, the same fiery spark from the first night they had met had blossomed once again in his eyes.

"Oh surely they have their place," Louisa said breezily, "but there are so many other talents that serve better. Practicality, charisma, intelligence, business sense."

Elijah's eyes narrowed slightly. "Those all serve well in the world of money, but what about in the betterment of society? In making people's lives better?"

"And you think art does that more than financial security?" Louisa asked, arching a painted on eyebrow.

"Have you never looked at a painting and felt joy? Or read a book and felt adventure? Or heard a song that brought a swell of emotion into your heart?" Elijah countered. "Money is good for the material, but art is good for the soul."

"He makes a good point there," Charlie chipped in. "After all, isn't this the age of the artists? That's one thing the internet is wonderful for, providing an outlet for all of these artists who wouldn't have had the means to share their work otherwise. How many singers have started on Youtube and ended up with recording deals? It's fascinating, the amount of talent there is in the world."

"I'm afraid you generalise far too much, Charles," William said. "I only know a handful of people I would consider truly talented. While yes, there are a good number of people who had made that leap, there are hundreds more who haven't. Hundreds of people who never make it farther than recording videos in their parent's basement for a handful of subscribers. It is the same with all arts. These people may be talented, true, but few of them have a real gift for their art."

"You must have high expectations for what you believe is a true gift then," Elijah said.

"It is more than just knowing the mechanics of the art," William went on, his heart reveling in the intellectual challenge he had provided. "True, one must understand the foundations upon which an art are built. They should also be versed in at least another art form, something outside of their own field. Greater appreciation is built upon having a wider understanding of the world. They must know these things so well that they are a natural part of their character.

"Then, most importantly, they must supply something more to these skills. They must bring with them a more substantial grasp on the art that goes beyond the mechanics. Something deeper and personal that brings light and life. Words on a paper are only words until there is something more behind them. Spirit and soul. Without achieving all of those things, the work is merely a vain attempt at art."

Elijah laughed, shaking his head. "It's no wonder you only know a few people that meet your standards," he said. "With a checklist like that, it's a miracle you know any."

"Do you think so?" William asked. "You doubt that there are artists out there who can meet my criteria? Are you really so hard on your peers?"

"I know I surely don't meet those standards," Elijah said. "What you are asking for is perfection. While it's unachievable in any branch of the world, it especially has no place in art. Art is about life, about the human soul. No human is perfect, and art reflects that. It is made to be imperfect."

William and Elijah stared each other down, and William found that the heat and passion in the other man's eyes was in fact a truly hypnotic thing. It brought to them a life that shot through him like an electric current, energizing William to his core. Warmth curled deep in his stomach and he had to fight the urge to continue arguing just to keep that spark alive.

"So Charlie, how long have you owned this place?" Jane asked when the silence had dragged on for several tense seconds.

Charles leapt onto the subject eagerly. "Six years, this summer," he said. "I would've owned it sooner but the seller was quite the shrewd negotiator about the price. It took nearly a year to talk him down on the selling price, and even then I probably paid too much for it. I couldn't help it though, as soon as I saw the place I knew I had to have it."

"It's a lovely home," Jane said, looking around thoughtfully. William frowned, his suspicions rising again. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen someone of lesser means try to worm their way into Charles' heart purely for financial gain. Charles was too trusting for his own good sometimes.

"Thanks," Charles responded with a grin. "Course it's nothing on Darce's home in Derbyshire."

"Oh it is beautiful," Caroline said emphatically.

"And such a library," Charles said. Elijah looked up in interest. "I wish my library was half as good as yours."

"Well my family has been building it for decades," William said. "And I add to it as often as I can. There's no point in neglecting something with so much history."

"You really ought to build a house like Pemberley," Caroline said. "Maybe you could find a place to build in Derbyshire. It would be nice to be able to see you and Gina more often," she added, batting her lashes in William's direction.

"I'd buy Pemberley itself if Will would ever sell it, but I know that'll never happen," Charles said with a laugh.

"True," William agreed, toasting his friend before taking a sip of the deep red wine. "Nothing in the world could make me give up my family home. Not even your damned puppy eyes."

This elicited a round of laughter that carried on through the rest of dinner. As stories were told, neither William nor, for some reason, Elijah contributed much to the conversation. William couldn't keep his mind from straying to the man across the table. He had never met someone as sharp and quick-witted as Elijah, and he found that with each passing second, instead of becoming less enamoured, he was becoming more.

After dinner, when everyone had cleared their plates into the kitchen, Jane and Elijah excused themselves. "I'm sorry, but we had a long drive and I'm exhausted," Elijah said while Jane, who appeared to be a little pale, looked genuinely sad at having to leave.

"No, of course," Charles said immediately. "You've both had a long day. Get your rest and we'll enjoy your company in the morning." Charles gave them both a quick hug, startling Elijah in the process, before they slipped upstairs to go to bed.

"Well that Elijah is certainly a character, isn't he?" Louisa said with a derisive snort as soon as the other two were out of earshot.

"I know, right?" Caroline said. "Not much for manners."

"Thinks quite highly of himself, too," Louisa added. "Proud and arrogant, I'd call him. Thinks he knows so much more than anyone else."

"He's a well educated man," Charles offered in the other's defence. "He has extensively studied the arts. He was merely expressing his opinion."

"Yes, aggressively so," Caroline said. "He did the same at the ball, don't you remember? When you asked him about poetry? No sense of propriety."

"And no sense of appearance either," Louisa said. "I mean, would it have killed him to shave before seeing company?"

William, who had been quite attracted to the sparse hair along the other man's jaw, looked down at his lap and remained quiet. It was Charles, once again, who came to his defence. "They had a long trip," he said. "They both came straight from work. They hardly had time to worry about things like that. Besides, we're friends. They hardly need to fancy up for us."

"Please, Charles, you know as well as any of us the importance of a good first impression," Caroline said dryly. "He looked like a vagrant with his clothes all wrinkled and that stubble on his face." She turned to William and said, "Surely you would never have signed him if you knew he looked like that."

"On the contrary," William said and shrugged. "I did not sign him for his appearance but for his talent. Besides, he looked perfectly fine to me."

A tentative pause followed his statement, in which Charles gave his friend an approving nod. It was Louisa who broke the quiet. "Jane's quite nice though," she said passively. "Very sweet. It's a shame she's not making more of herself. A girl like her could really go places in the world."

"She's doing the work that she loves," Charles said. "I respect her for that."

"Still, she's hardly part of our social circle," Louisa said pointedly. "What does her family do?"

"Her father is an accountant," Charles said. "And her mother is a receptionist at an office building."

Louisa hummed thoughtfully. "Are you sure she's not just interested in your money?" William's attention was piqued by this observation, one he had made himself the night of the ball.

"How could you say that?" Charles asked, obviously affronted. "You've seen what a sweet and considerate person she is. She's genuine. I believe that if she has any feelings for me, they are sincere."

"She is really sweet," Caroline agreed. "I like her. I would love to take her shopping with me sometime though, get her something more fashionable than those bargain dresses she wears. I'll have to make plans with her before the weekend is through."

As the two women turned to the topic of fashion, William tuned out of the conversation. His mind was filled with nothing but Elijah. Just when he thought that he could deal with his feelings, the other man would throw a curveball that completely knocked him off his guard.

He was swiftly falling in love with the spark of passion that lit in Elijah's eye every time he entered a debate. Never before had he met someone with so much life and passion in them. Despite what Louisa and Caroline said, he found nothing wrong with the way he argued his point. He respected the fact that Elijah had opinions and that he wasn't afraid to share them, even among people who would normally be considered his superiors. It was the same way he had fought for the integrity of his novel during their basic edit, and William thrived on it. It stirred his soul in a way that his life had been lacking for years.

"You alright, Darce?" Charles asked, rousing William by setting a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Fine, why do you ask?" William replied, putting on his best poker face.

"You just seem distracted, is all," Charles said. "And quieter than usual."

William's lips quirked at the tease. "Only thinking about all of the work I need to get done this weekend," he said. "Speaking of which, I should probably retire to my room as well. I have to finish a few edits before I can go to sleep."

"You're supposed to be on holiday," Charles reminded him. "Relaxing, enjoying yourself."

"Sorry, Charles, but unlike you, my business is not about having fun," he said. "I've taken on more work than usual and I can't let these people down." I can't let Elijah down.

"Alright, spoil sport," Charles said with a laugh. "But I expect you to try and enjoy yourself a little more tomorrow, alright?"

"Fair enough," William agreed. "Goodnight, Charles."

"Night, Will," Charles replied. William nodded a quick farewell to the others and then headed upstairs. Down the west hall, he let himself into the guest bedroom he always occupied when staying with Charles and closed the door behind him. He exhaled heavily and in the safety of his room finally allowed the tension leave him as well. Keeping up a front, especially while spending so much time with Elijah around, was going to be the death of him.

How was he supposed to survive this weekend?


	11. Southampton

**Chapter Eleven - Southampton**

The sun rose too early the following morning, in Elijah's opinion. Despite the magnificent comfort of the bed - on which he'd given in to his childish urges and thrown himself on returning to the room the night before - he had slept poorly. The conversation over dinner had run through his head on repeat and when he did finally fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, lulled away by the sound of the waves, he had had strange dreams.

It was the sound of movement downstairs that finally drove him to clamber out of the cloudlike mattress and stumble into the bathroom. Undressing, he stepped into what turned out to be a steam shower and let the heat and moisture loosen the knots in his shoulders.

One night in the same house as Darcy and he'd gone and put his foot in his mouth. He had let his mouth get ahead of his brain again. It was a fault he'd always had; once he got riled up, it was hard to stop him. Darcy had pushed all of his right buttons and the next thing he knew, he was telling off his editor.

Groaning, Elijah let his head drop against the glass wall of the shower. It would be a miracle if he didn't lose his contract by the end of the weekend, the way he was going. That razor-sharp focused stare Darcy had fixed on him at the end of their argument told him all too clearly that his editor had not appreciated the piece of mind that Elijah had given him.

Well it was too late to take it all back now. As much as he regretted getting as worked up as he had, he didn't regret the things he'd said. They were all truth. The best he could do now was try to keep his tongue and not say anything worse before the weekend was up. He briefly considered coping out and going home early, claiming something had come up at work, but he couldn't do it. Jane would kill him. Well, no, she wouldn't because she was too nice for that, but he didn't want to disappoint her either.

Elijah shook his head as he climbed out of the shower and towelled off. With the towel around his waist, he went back into the bedroom and dug a pair of clean jeans and a plaid blue button-up from his duffel bag and pulled them on. He rolled the sleeves to the elbow and then wiped the steam off the mirror so he could shave. Face smooth once more, he stepped into his worn out Chuck Taylors and left his room.

The door directly across the hall opened just as he was stepping out and to his surprise he came face-to-face with William Darcy, who was rubbing his eyes blearily and didn't notice him right away.

"Morning," Elijah offered tentatively.

Darcy lowered his hand and seemed confused to see him standing there. "Morning," he echoed and his voice was low and gruff with sleep. Elijah determinedly ignored the thrill that sound sent down his spine. Darcy was dressed in slim-fitting jeans and a black t-shirt, and his hair was damp and slightly curled. As he looked closer, he realised that there were dark rings beneath Darcy's eyes.

"You look exhausted," he said sympathetically. That much he understood. After all, it was hardly like he'd had the best night's sleep.

"Work," Darcy answered in his typical, monosyllabic fashion.

Elijah nodded, not knowing what else to say to that. The two stood there uncertainly for a moment before Elijah turned to knock on Jane's door. As he waited for her response, he heard Darcy padding away down the hall. It took a minute for Jane to answer the door, and when she did she was still in her pyjamas, looking pale and worn.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I've overslept," she said immediately on seeing him up and dressed.

"No, it's fine, I was just seeing if you're ready for breakfast," Elijah said, brow furrowing in concern. "Janey, are you okay? You don't look well."

"Just a little tired," she responded. "I'll be perfectly fine once I've had a shower and some breakfast. Go on down, I'll be down in a few minutes." She smiled before shutting the door. Elijah hesitated before going downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Good morning," said a very energetic Charlie. He was clearly a morning person. He gestured at the table, which was laid out with a miniature breakfast buffet. "Please, help yourself."

"Jane says she'll be down in a few minutes," Elijah said as he picked up a plate. "She overslept."

"No worries," Charlie said. "Caroline's not up yet either. We'll be lucky if she's awake before noon. There's coffee in the kitchen, if you'd like some, or juices in the fridge."

"Thanks, Charlie, this is brilliant," Elijah said, setting his loaded plate down in the spot where he'd sat the night before. He passed through the doorway that led to the kitchen and nearly collided with Darcy, who was on his way out. He had to hastily backpedal to avoid having a cup of scalding coffee poured down his front. "Sorry," he said, slipping carefully past Darcy.

Darcy, who didn't appear to be entirely awake yet, merely grunted in response and went back to blowing on his coffee. Elijah smiled to himself as he walked over to the coffee machine and made himself a cup. Yet another glaring difference between Charlie and Darcy. How on earth they were best friends, Elijah was sure he would never understand.

He was halfway through his breakfast when Jane finally made her appearance. She did look better than she had before, the heat of the shower adding a little colour to her face, but she still looked too pale for his liking. Jane smiled brightly at them all, her long dark hair hanging in a braid over the shoulder of her pink sundress.

"So I was thinking," Charlie said once she'd made up a plate of fresh fruit and toast, "maybe you two would like to explore downtown a little. You likely didn't see much of it on your way in, but there's a lot to look at."

"That sounds wonderful," Jane said eagerly and Elijah nodded his agreement. They'd gotten a glimpse of the historic Main Street on their way, but he would jump at a chance to explore it more thoroughly.

"Excellent," Charlie said. "It's decided then. I know Caroline will join us. Louisa, Brian, would you care to come along?"

"No thank you," Louisa said. "I think I'd rather spend the afternoon here beside the pool, thank you. I've seen enough of the town for a lifetime."

"I'll come," Darcy said, surprising everyone. "It has been a few years since I've spent much time there." Charlie grinned while Elijah groaned internally. Another chance for him to embarrass himself in front of his editor.

By the time everyone had finished their breakfast - and Caroline was finally roused and ready to go - it was nearly noon just as Charlie had predicted. The day was hot but there was a cool breeze sweeping in off the sea so they chose to walk the few miles into town. Charlie and Caroline talked excitedly about their favourite parts of town while Jane and Elijah listened on attentively. Darcy brought up the rear of the group, silent as usual with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans.

The main part of town was quaint and beautiful, comprised of old-fashioned red brick buildings with white cloth awnings and large glass front windows. Even the newest buildings were built in the same style, the Ralph Lauren nearly identical to the historic department store Hildreth's. People bustled about on the walks, offering friendly smiles as they passed the group, and a few of them greeted Charlie and Caroline by name.

They window shopped in the charming little shops and browsed the historic Southampton museum. In a cute little clothing boutique Charlie insisted on buying a flowered sunhat that Jane had been eyeing longingly, and as they left the store he set it on her head like he was bestowing a crown to a princess. For the look of happiness and wonder on Jane's face, he might as well have been.

As the group continued to wander the streets, Charlie told them about how the town was always decorated at Christmastime, with fairy lights strung around the window frame of every shop and hanging across the street from the lampposts. He said that in a month's time, when everyone was getting geared up for the Fourth of July, the whole place would be draped in red, white, and blue sashes.

When they had thoroughly navigated the downtown hub, their party ducked into a corner bistro called Sant Ambroeus. They were seated at a table in a vine-covered patio and left with menus while the waiter went to prepare their drinks. "This place is beautiful," Jane said adoringly. "I've never seen anywhere like it. Do you plan to stay here long?"

"I'm not sure yet," Charlie admitted. "I tend to move as the urge takes me. For now I have no plans to leave, but then once I do, I'd be packed and gone in five minutes."

Elijah laughed. "That sounds like you."

"You think you know me that well already?" Charlie asked in amusement. "I'd like to think that's a good thing, but at the same time I'm not sure it's great to be so transparent, especially for a businessman like me."

"That's alright, you're such a nice guy it makes up for it," Elijah said with a grin, making Charlie laugh.

They were interrupted by the waiter, who had returned with their drinks and to take their orders. When the waiter had gathered their menus and disappeared inside again, Charlie picked up the dropped thread of the conversation. "I didn't know you were a people watcher. That must be a fun hobby."

"It is," Elijah agreed. "It helps me create better characters for my writing. I observe people, learn what is going on beneath the surface. After all, the more complex a person, the more interesting they are."

Darcy huffed a laugh. "Well you'll hardly find people like that around here. A neighbourhood like this really only has one type of society."

"Maybe, but in my experience people are often varied enough even within a small circle," Elijah said. "And they grow and change so much that there's always something new to discover."

"Of course," said Caroline, who seemed a little affronted at the slight against her community. "There's just as much of that here as anywhere else. It's not like New York has anything that we don't, except maybe more stores. But the quiet places like this are more pleasant, don't you think, Charlie?"

"I think that when I'm here, but then when I'm in the city I think I'd rather be nowhere than there. They are both great in their own ways and I love them both," Charlie said diplomatically.

"Well Will here seems to think little for our Hamptons," Caroline said, her expression pouting as she looked at Darcy.

Elijah laughed and shook his head. "I don't think that's what he said at all," he said. "He was just saying that there's not as much variety here as in the city, which I admit is true. I don't know if there's a place on earth so diverse as New York City." Darcy gave him an appraising look, his blue eyes sharp and calculating, and then nodded in acquiesce. Elijah smiled to himself, grateful that he'd managed to get through an interaction with the editor without getting into an argument.

Their meals arrived in the silence that followed and Elijah eagerly tucked into the Italian dish. Across from him Caroline was picking at her seafood risotto, staring at the screen of her phone. "What's the matter?" Charlie asked her curiously.

Caroline sighed, loudly and dramatically. "Margarite wants me to return to the city this weekend for her party," she said. "I forgot I told her I would be there, but I don't want to leave."

"You should go," Charlie said. "You can spend time with me any time."

Caroline's eyes flicked up and Elijah caught them lingering on Darcy for several long seconds. He had a feeling it wasn't Charlie she was concerned about leaving. The man in question gave another soft laugh. "You would say that," Darcy said.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked curiously.

"You are always willing to change your plans at someone else's word," Darcy said. "You said earlier that you'd leave here in a second if you decided to, but I highly doubt that. You might plan to but then if a friend were to ask you to stay, you would do it without second thought."

"What's wrong with that?" Elijah asked. "I think that just shows what a good man Charlie is."

Charlie laughed again. "Thanks for trying to make that sound like a compliment," he said. "But that's hardly what Darce means. He thinks it would be better if I refused my friend and stuck to my original plans."

"So giving in to the request of a friend is not good in your eyes?" Elijah asked Darcy. "It sounds like you don't put much stock in the idea of friendship to me. If someone I cared for asked something of me, I would do it without hesitation. Does that make me wrong for agreeing without being argued into it first?"

"And does it make a difference if that friend is taller or shorter or older or younger?" Charlie put in, arching an eyebrow.

A small smile curled up the corner of Darcy's mouth. "I know that trick," he said. "Reductio ad absurdum. You're trying to derail this discussion."

"Before it becomes a heated debate, yes," Charlie said unabashedly. "You know I'm not fond of arguing the way you are. Save it for another time when I'm not around. Let's just finish our lunch in peace."

"Fine by me," Elijah said, grateful for an easy escape from what very well could've become another verbal sparring match. He was getting into far too many of those for his own good. As Jane asked Caroline about her work, the rest of them tucked back into their lunches.

Elijah tipped his head down too quickly to catch the look that Darcy shot across at him, or the flicker of a genuine smile that crossed the other man's face.


	12. Outed

**Chapter Twelve - Outed**

On their way back to the house later that afternoon they were hit by a sudden summer rainstorm. The humid thunderclouds had been slowly boiling up all day long and a half mile into their return trip they had reached their fullest, splitting open at the seams. Torrential rain swept in from nowhere and within minutes all five of them were drenched.

They sprinted down the pavements with their arms over their faces, but nothing could stop the pouring water. By the time they reached the house, all of them were dripping and grass and mud clung to their ankles and pant legs. They all stumbled into the foyer, gasping for breath and wiping water from their eyes.

"Well that was unexpected," Charlie said. The five of them looked around at each other. Jane and Caroline's dresses were wrapped around their legs while all three men's shirts were clinging to their skin like film. Hair hung in sopping ringlets and shoes squelched with water as they shifted their weight, dripping on the hardwood floor.

All at once, Elijah laughed. He couldn't take it, they all looked so pathetic and bedraggled standing there. "God, we look a sight," he said, shaking his head. Charlie glanced around at them each and then promptly joined in, a loud, powerful laugh that reverberated in the air around them. Jane was quick to follow, high and sweet, as she pulled off her drooping sunhat.

A deep, rich laugh cut through them all and Elijah felt his stomach lurch dangerously at the sound. He glanced at Darcy in surprise to see the man's lips twisted up at the corners as he combed a hand through his dripping hair. Had William Darcy actually just laughed? It must be some sort of miracle. At the same time, Elijah was suddenly supremely grateful it was a rare occurrence; he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his head if he was hearing that sexy noise all the time.

Louisa appeared in the doorway from the sitting room and her eyes widened in shock. "My God, what happened to you? Caroline, your dress is going to be ruined," she gasped.

"We should probably go change," Charlie said, looking down at his now nearly see-through t-shirt.

"Before we warp your floors," Elijah added with a grin. They each had a small puddle gathered around their feet. Charlie chuckled and they all toed out of their soaked shoes and socks. The five of them trooped in a line up the stairs and then parted ways to their rooms to change. Elijah peeled off his wet clothes and draped them over the edge of the shower doors. He towelled off and pulled a fresh change of clothes from his duffel.

Once he was dressed again, still a bit chilled but at least mostly dry, he stepped back out into the hall. In the opposite hall Charlie was heading for the staircase and Elijah reached it at the same time. "Feeling better?" Charlie asked.

"Not quite so cold," Elijah agreed, brushing a hand back over his damp hair.

They made their way down to the sitting room to find Louisa, wearing a white knit tunic over her maroon bathing suit, lounging in the window bench. The radio was playing from the impressive stereo system, and she was lazily tapping her foot along with a pop station piping out through the surround sound. Brian was sitting in an armchair, his laptop open on his legs and a look of intense concentration on his features.

"You made a real mess in the foyer," Louisa said and wrinkled up her nose, shooting an almost accusing glance at Elijah as she did.

"I'll clean it up," Charlie said and went to a closet in the hall. He pulled out a couple of towels and dropped them on the puddles, using his foot to slide them around. Elijah hurried over to join him and Charlie gave him an appreciative nod. They wiped up all of the water and then gathered the sopping towels. Charlie led the way through the back to a wide laundry room and they tossed the towels into the washing machine.

When they returned to the sitting room, Darcy, Caroline, and Jane had all joined them. Caroline had clearly taken the time to dry her hair, but Jane's was still hanging in wet, loose waves around her shoulders. Elijah tried very hard not to notice how deliciously rumpled Darcy looked with his damp hair mussed atop his head and his fresh t-shirt slightly akimbo on his broad frame.

"You guys took all day, I wasn't expecting you to be so late," Louisa said dramatically. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten lost."

"Caroline got lost in Hildreth's summer catalogue," Charlie said with a laugh. "That's about it though."

"So you had a good time then?" she asked.

"Oh yes, it was wonderful," Jane said eagerly as she braided her hair into a loose plait over her shoulder. "It's such a beautiful town."

Louisa frowned, finally sitting up to look at the other woman properly. "Jane, are you alright? You look pale." And it was true; beneath the flush of the cold on her cheeks, Jane was looking particularly pallid.

"I'm fine," Jane said, smiling. "Just a little tired, perhaps."

"I should go start on dinner," Charlie said. He nodded to them and then turned and slipped into the dining room.

"I think I'll go help him," Jane said with a timid smile and she promptly followed him.

"We should play a few rounds of cards while we wait for dinner," Louisa suggested suddenly. Brian looked up, his attention for once finally diverted from his work and a spark of excitement in his eyes. "I know Brian will join me, he does love a good game of poker," she continued. "Caroline, William, Elijah, what about you?"

While Caroline and Darcy agreed, Elijah brushed aside the offer. "No thanks," he said. "I'm not much for cards. I think I'll just read." Truth be told, he knew they'd be playing high and he didn't have that kind of cash.

Brian looked at him, his brow furrowing, and for the first time all weekend bothered to actually speak to him. "You'd rather read than play cards?"

Caroline laughed, although it sounded rather like a scoff. "Elijah is an avid reader and would rather read than do anything else."

"That's not true, on either count," Elijah said. "I'm actually a rather slow reader, and there are a lot of things I enjoy just as much, if not more, than reading."

"Well come on then, if we're going to play," Brian said impatiently. Louisa retrieved a deck of cards from a drawer and the four of them settled down around the coffee table to play.

While they were shuffling and dealing cards, Elijah wandered over to the bookshelf built into the wall and browsed the titles. At the end of the first shelf he found a collection of poetry and he pulled the book out. Settling down in an armchair beneath the window, he began reading, losing himself in the rhythm of the words.

He roused from a particularly long poem about the change of the seasons when Jane stepped into the room. "Charlie says dinner's about done, if you guys are ready," she said.

"Yeah, we're nearly finished with this hand," Caroline said. "Be over faster if Will would just fold."

Darcy's lips quirked up slightly at the corner. "Brian?"

Brian seemed to consider his cards thoughtfully, chewing on his lower lip, and then eyed the stack of bills in the middle of the table. Shaking his head, he placed his cards face down on the table. "I fold."

Grinning, Darcy swiped the bills across the table toward himself and threw his cards down on the tabletop. Elijah wandered over curiously to peer down at the cards. A pair of threes. "That's four times," Brian said, puffing. "You've got the best damn poker face I've ever seen." Somehow, that didn't surprise Elijah in the slightest; he'd rarely seen any flicker of emotion on Darcy's face, and even then it was only a ghost of it.

After Darcy had stowed his winnings away in his pocket, they all made their way into the dining room. Charlie and Jane were already setting dinner out on the table so everyone else took their seats. There was a long silence in which everyone passed around the dishes and loaded up their plates, and the only words spoken were please and thank yous.

"So Jane, Elijah, tell us more about your family," Louisa said after everyone had dished up their plates and started eating. "Charlie said there are four of you?"

"Five, actually," Jane corrected. "We have three younger siblings."

"Wow, so many," Louisa said, shaking her head. "I don't know how your poor mother can handle it. I don't even know if I could handle one child, let alone five." She laughed, high and airy. "Tell us a little about them."

"Well there's Mark and Kitty," Jane said, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "They're twins and they just turned twenty-four. Mark is studying music at NYU and teaches piano lessons. Kitty is working at a clothing store in Nassau and taking classes online. Then Lydia is our youngest sister, she's twenty-one. She's a bartender at the moment."

"A bartender?" Caroline asked, an eyebrow arching. "Well that must be - interesting."

"She seems to enjoy it a lot," Jane said, completely oblivious to the hint of sarcasm in Caroline's tone. "She makes good money, anyway, and she's great at talking to people."

Louisa hummed and a quiet fell over the table again. Then Louisa cleared her throat loudly and said, "So Elijah, are you seeing anyone?"

Elijah opened his mouth to answer but Caroline beat him to it. She laughed loudly and said, "I'd hope not with the way you were checking out that cashier at Ralph Lauren." Elijah blanched. "Oh don't act so surprised, you weren't exactly subtle. Besides, he was checking you out too. You should go back and get his number."

A resounding, tense silence followed this statement. Elijah was frozen, completely incapable of moving as his heart hammered in his ears. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, the weight of their stares enveloping him until he could barely breathe.

Caroline looked around at the others in confusion. "What's wrong with everyone?"

"You're gay?" Darcy asked, his deep voice heavy with contempt as his ice blue eyes drilled holes into Elijah's skull.

Caroline's eyes widened, obviously realising what she'd done. "Oh God, Elijah, I'm sorry," she said hastily. "I didn't mean to-"

For a second Elijah very strongly considered lying. He wanted to deny everything and play it off as some sort of joke. He wasn't prepared to come out, especially not to a bunch of near strangers.

In the end though, he couldn't do it. It wasn't in his character. He wasn't ashamed of who he was, even though a good percentage of society seemed to be. His integrity - and his stubbornness - wouldn't allow him to pretend to be something he wasn't.

He was gay. And now they all knew it.

So he met Darcy's stare and said, "Yes." For a minute they simply stared each other down, and then Darcy nodded and turned his attention back to his dinner.

From the other end of the table, Louisa asked, "Oh, I have a lovely friend who's gay. Jacob. Brian, you know Jacob, don't you? He's such a dear," she rambled. Brian hummed noncommittally.

"So you excited about your book being published?" Charlie asked with a curious smile.

Elijah unconsciously relaxed. There were always two possible reactions when a person came out: either they were accepted, or immediately rejected. As he looked around at the rest of the table, everyone seemed unconcerned about the newest development. Well, everyone except Darcy, who hadn't looked up from his pasta salad. Overall, it seemed he had been accepted.

"Incredibly," Elijah answered, grinning. "I've already started working on the revisions. I'm ready to get this thing going as quickly as possible."

The tension at the table immediately dissipated and conversation started up again. As Charlie told an amusing anecdote about his own attempts as writing, Jane squeezed Elijah's hand beneath the table. He glanced sideways at her and she mouthed, "You okay?" Elijah smiled and nodded.

Dinner passed in casual banter and when they had all eaten their fill they moved back to the living room. The radio was still playing and Louisa and Caroline entertained themselves by dancing along to the pop song, cajoling Jane into joining them. Brian had returned to his laptop, and Charlie and Darcy were standing on the opposite side of the room, talking.

Elijah was once again browsing the bookshelf curiously when he felt a prickle go up his spine. Glancing over his shoulder, he was surprised to find a pair of sharp blue eyes scrutinising his every move. Elijah tried to ignore him and go back to what he was doing, but as long minutes stretched by he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

What on earth was up with Darcy? He couldn't think of any reason that the other man should be watching him so much. It wasn't like he liked Elijah all that much, but the idea that he'd stare at him because he didn't like him was even weirder. The only thing he could think of was that he was watching him to find something else wrong with him. Perhaps he didn't like that Elijah was gay and he was looking for more reasons to hate him.

Oh well, if that was the truth then so be it. He hardly cared about being liked by bigots like him anyway.

Shaking his head, he went back to admiring Bingley's collection of classic novels and poetry. A few minutes later the song had switched to a more upbeat, dance number, one that Elijah was fond of listening to in the car. A throat clearing behind him made Elijah turn and he startled when he saw Darcy standing right behind him.

"Good song for dancing, isn't it?" he asked, his tone a bit stiff. Elijah smiled but didn't respond, still trying to figure out what his angle was. Darcy repeated the question slightly louder.

"Oh, I heard you," Elijah said, smiling archly. "I just couldn't quite figure out what to say. I figured you want me to say 'Yes' so you could mock my taste in music, but I just enjoy outsmarting people when they do that. Wouldn't want to give you a chance to nurse your predetermined hatred, would I? So I'm just going to say that no, it's a terrible song, and you can hate me if you dare."

Darcy's mouth tilted up in a sideways smirk. "I would never dare hate you, Elijah."

As Darcy turned and walked away without another word, Elijah could only watch him go. There was one question in his mind. _What in the hell was that about?_


	13. Beachside Battle

AN: You're all so wonderful to me already that I hate to ask anything of you guys, but I'm reaching out in my time of need. I've gotten a bid to self-publish my debut novel and have started a kickstarter campaign to raise the funds. If you guys like what you read here on FFN, please take the time to check out my campaign. (You can even read a full draft of the manuscript I'm publishing - pre-editing, of course.) Even if you can't donate, I appreciate you sharing it with friends/family/fellow writers/ etc. so I can hopefully reach my goal and make my dreams a reality. The link can be found on my author profile page.

Thanks, as always, for being the incredibly awesome, devoted fans that you are. You are the reason I even have the courage to try this crazy venture.

Love and gummy bears.

- Artie (Nicki)

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen - Beachside Battle**

William was starting to wonder if he was ever going to have a good night's sleep again. Ever since he had met Elijah Bennet his mind had refused to calm enough for him to sleep, and when he finally did fall asleep in the early hours of the morning his dreams were plagued with soulful brown eyes and pale rose-coloured lips forming sharp, witful words. He woke up with his heart hammering in his chest and his head spinning.

Last night he had gotten practically no sleep at all, laying awake and staring at the ceiling of the guest bedroom with his mind racing. Then, after only an hour or two of sleep, he'd woken up again. Dinner had shaken him in a way he couldn't properly explain. He had perhaps guessed - and maybe some small part of him had hoped it too - that Elijah was gay. Although it would have been easier for him if he wasn't, because then at least he'd have a definite reason to squash this stupid crush.

No, in the end what really upset him about last night was how quickly Elijah had been outed. One slipped sentence from Caroline and suddenly it was all out there. He'd seen the brief flash of terror on Elijah's face. Clearly coming out had not been part of his plans for the weekend.

William had been so startled by the proceedings that he hadn't been able to stop the surprised question from slipping off his lips. Anger at Caroline for causing the situation and a burning, fiery hope had warred in his chest as he stared down Elijah across the table. The other man had given him a calculating look before lifting his chin defiantly and saying yes.

That action alone had struck William harder than anything. Even when he hadn't meant to come out, even when he had perfect opportunity to deny everything, Elijah hadn't refused what he was. He may not be the sort of person who announced the truth from the rooftops, but he wasn't afraid to be honest when it came down to it.

He was braver than William could ever be.

William wondered if the other man had come out to anyone else before. Jane hadn't seemed surprised by the news, so he assumed that she must've known one way or another. What would it be like to have someone who knew the truth? An intense ache formed in his chest as he thought about it. To have someone who knew the real him, who still cared for him and didn't judge who he truly was.

Rolling over, William picked up his phone to check the time. Nearly six-thirty. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep now. Throwing aside the covers, he clambered out of bed to get ready to face the day.

* * *

Elijah had actually slept well for the first time in days and he woke shortly after sunrise refreshed and rested. It surprised him, after the stress of dinner the night before, but somehow he felt better. It was like a weight had been removed from his chest, letting him breathe freely for once. Here were people who knew his secret and who still accepted him. It was a welcome change.

After showering and dressing he spent a few hours working on revisions for his manuscript. They were coming along nicely and he had already repaired all of the minor grammatical errors and typos. He passed the time until breakfast toying with a weak segment of the third chapter.

When he finally got up to go down to breakfast, he stopped at Jane's door and tapped on the wood. "Jane, you awake?" he called through the door. There was a moan and some shuffling, and then Jane opened the door. She was pale and drawn except for her nose, which was bright red. There were rings around her eyes and her forehead was shining with a feverish sweat. Elijah made an alarmed noise.

"It's just a cold," Jane said with a weary smile. "I'll be fine. But I don't think I'm going to come down to breakfast. I don't want to get everyone else sick."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Elijah asked uncertainly. "Do you want me to get something for you? Some water, some pills? Soup?"

"Water would be nice," she said. Elijah frowned; it was a sign of how poorly she felt that she was actually willing to ask for something. He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead and cringed at the moist heat.

"Go lay back down," he said, nodding toward the bed. "I'll get you something to drink." Jane nodded sleepily and then shut the door. Elijah turned and jogged down the steps to the main part of the house. In the kitchen he found Charlie and Louisa having a friendly discussion over breakfast while Darcy sat on Charlie's other side, silently nursing a cup of steaming coffee.

"Morning, Eli," Charlie said, grinning at him over his toast.

"Morning," he replied. "Hey, do you have some cold medicine or something? Jane's come down with something."

Charlie's face switched immediately from cheerful to concern, ridges forming on his forehead as he frowned. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she says it's just a little cold," Elijah said.

"Probably from getting rained on yesterday," Charlie said and shook his head. "I knew I should've called for a car when those clouds rolled in." He stood up, his breakfast forgotten. "I've got some cough medicine around here somewhere."

In the twenty minutes that followed Charlie went above and beyond the call of duty. Not only did he find cough medicine and a bag of lozenges for Jane, he also brewed her a cup of tea and took breakfast up to her room on a tray. He sat with her while she ate, cleared up her dishes, and then when she laid down to take a nap he made up a cold compress for her forehead.

Elijah, meanwhile, could tell that he was no longer needed. Jane was clearly in good hands. While Louisa filled Caroline in on the news of Jane's illness - they both worried about her for all of five minutes, before their attention was diverted by something Caroline found on her phone - Elijah helped himself to a cup of coffee and some of the fresh toast and marmalade.

Everyone was just finishing with their breakfasts when Charlie reemerged, carrying the empty tray and looking less anxious than he had when he'd first heard Jane was ill. "She says she's feeling better," he told Elijah. "She's just gone back to sleep."

"Thank you for taking care of her," Elijah said. "I really don't want you to get sick."

"It's fine," Charlie said. "What kind of host would I be if I didn't tend to my guests? It's my pleasure."

"So Charlie, what plans do we have for the day?" Louisa asked, examining her fingernails idly.

"I thought we could take advantage of the nice weather today and enjoy the beach," Charlie said. "Besides, I don't want to go far from the house with Jane here alone."

Everyone promptly agreed and made their way back into their rooms to change into more appropriate clothes. Dressed in a pair of swim trunks and a loose t-shirt, Elijah wandered downstairs to find the back door of the house thrown open. He stepped out onto the large deck, which had its own fully furnished kitchen, and took in the view.

A stretch of grass was perforated by an enormous, rectangular swimming pool with an attached hot tub. A white gazebo stood sentinel in the middle of a circle of roses, with a fire pit off to the side. The grass tapered out into pale sand that stretched all the way to the ocean, where two rail fences marked off the piece of beach owned by the Bingleys. In the distance the bright white sails of a yacht stood out against the deep blue water.

"Not a bad view, is it?" Caroline asked, coming out to stand next to him. She had changed into an orange bikini with a matching sarong that somehow still left little to the imagination.

"I could get used to it," Elijah agreed with a grin. Barefoot, he walked down the steps into the perfectly manicured grass, enjoying the feel of it between his toes.

He was just trying to decide where to begin when Charlie bounded down the stairs and clapped him on the shoulder. "Fancy a game of volleyball?" he asked, bouncing the white leather ball in his other hand.

"Sounds great," Elijah said. They recruited Caroline and Louisa as well, although Darcy opted out of joining them. Brian, Elijah was informed, had returned to the city early in the morning to deal with a work emergency. Elijah and Caroline took their places on one side of the net while Charlie and Louisa set up on the other. Darcy - elected to the role of referee - settled down in a lounge chair with his laptop.

Elijah had never been the most athletically gifted person. He wasn't the kid who was chosen last for every team, but he wasn't ever particularly a great addition either. He had stopped playing sports in junior high when his mother finally realised that he was never going to be her star athlete, and while he kept in shape, he didn't go out of his way to join local sports teams. Still, what he lacked in talents, he made up for in enthusiasm and a desire for fun.

It turned out that none of the others were particularly more gifted than him. Charlie mirrored his own energy although he was prone to falling over in his eagerness to get to the ball. Louisa lacked any aim and Caroline was too distracted by trying to get Darcy's attention, making her not much help at all. Sweating, both Charlie and Elijah discarded their shirts ten minutes in, and while Caroline took off her sarong, Louisa also abandoned her knit shirt before returning to the game with fervor.

The game was rather evenly matched and eventually they lost track of the scores when they climbed too high. They finally called the game a draw near lunchtime. Charlie went inside to prepare lunch and Louisa decided to devote herself to getting more of a tan - not that she needed it. Caroline surprised Elijah by walking up to him and hooking her arm through his. "Want to join me for a walk around the beach?" she asked.

"Sure," he agreed immediately, still surprised by the sudden friendliness. While Caroline had never been antagonistic towards him, she'd also never really been so familiar.

"Care to join us, Will?" Caroline asked when she realised Darcy had looked up from his laptop.

The faintest smirk twitched at the corner of Darcy's mouth and he shook his head. "No, I can see only two reasons for you two to take a walk around the beach together, and in either case I'd just be in the way," he said.

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked, glancing curiously at Elijah, who shrugged.

"Well either you are in each other confidences and want to share secrets, or you are trying to show off your new swimming suit," he said. "If it's the former, then I hardly want to interfere, and if the latter, I've got a perfectly good view from where I'm at."

"Will!" Caroline exclaimed in shock. "Well I never..." She was pretending to be aghast but Elijah didn't miss the way she rolled her shoulders back slightly and straightened her back, putting her chest further on display. "I feel like he's mocking us."

"Then mock him back," Elijah suggested with a laugh. "You know each other well enough, you must know something worth teasing him about."

"Tease William Darcy?" Caroline asked as if it was the most ridiculous idea in the world. "I wouldn't know how. I can't think of anything worth teasing."

"Well he may be in the luck then," Elijah said. "Still, it's a shame. I wouldn't want a friend who was no good for a laugh. I love a good laugh."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Even the best person can be made to seem ridiculous by a person whose only goal in life is to make jokes of everything."

"I hope I'm not one of those people," Elijah replied. "I don't make fun of things that are good simply to be laughing, but I can't help but laugh at mistakes and faults. Doesn't everyone? So I suppose if you can't be teased then you must be without fault, am I right?"

"I don't think that's possible for anyone," Darcy said, lowering the lid of his laptop slightly and sitting up straighter. "But I would like to think I avoid the sorts of things that would expose me to ridicule."

Elijah surveyed Darcy more closely. "Things like vanity and pride?" he tested curiously.

"Well vanity is a defect, sure," Darcy agreed. "Pride, however - when there is good reason for it - is perfectly justified." Elijah tried very hard to hide a smile. Of course Darcy, the proudest man he had ever met, would think that intense pride is a strength.

"So what do you think, Elijah?" Caroline asked.

"I think you were right and Mr. Darcy has no faults," Elijah said, a touch sarcastically. "He said as much himself."

"I said no such thing," Darcy interjected. "I have plenty of faults. I have little patience for the mistakes and vices of others. I am known to have a short temper and I don't forgive easily when offended. In fact I would say that my good opinion once lost is lost forever."

Elijah raised his eyebrows. "That certainly _is_ a fault. It does you no good to be unforgiving and resentful."

"I think everyone has their one core fault," Darcy said, his ice blue eyes locked on Elijah in a challenge. "A sin or vice that they can't escape from, no matter how hard they try."

"And yours is a natural tendency to hate everyone," Elijah said, wondering just when he had lost complete control over his mouth and the words coming out of it. What was he saying to his editor, the man who held the future of his book - _his career_ - in his hands?

Darcy smiled. "And you like to intentionally misunderstand people."

Elijah felt his pride rankle. How on earth did one intentionally misunderstand? Before he could respond, Caroline tugged on his arm and said, "Come on, Eli, or we won't have time to walk around to the shore before Charlie finishing making lunch."

"Right, sure," Elijah agreed and he turned his back on Darcy. As he and Caroline made a circuit of the private beach, he couldn't stop thinking about that conversation. Every time that he thought he had William Darcy figured out he surprised him, and every time he thought he had bested him Darcy found a way to return his barb.

There was simply no winning with the man.

Shaking his head, Elijah turned his attention to what Caroline was saying. A question that had been burning in the back of his mind surged forward and when she paused in her story he asked, "How did you know I was gay?"

Caroline laughed. "I work in the fashion industry," she said. "I meet all kinds of gay guys. I've developed a perfect gay-dar. I can spot a gay guy from a mile away."

"I always thought I hid it well," Elijah said.

"Better than some," Caroline agreed. "I pegged you that first night though, at the ball. And then of course when I caught you staring at that guy at Ralph Lauren..." Elijah felt his cheeks burn red. Caroline giggled and nudged him with her elbow playfully. "Relax, I don't blame you. He was _gorgeous_."

Elijah let her continue to prattle on about the cashier who could've been an underwear model, too embarrassed to admit that he hadn't been looking at the sales assistant at all. He'd been staring at the editor who was browsing a rack of jeans behind him.


End file.
